Welcome to the Kindling Khepri.

I am still becoming, pushing the sun towards the breaking dawn.
I carry messages across the water, bidding them to survive. It is in my words that I will live forever, while my essence grows and rots and withers away. Know me in my message. Know that every line here is truthful and sincere, and every utterance a baring of my most vulnerable self.

Kindlings are my long-form musings on love, life and loss. They follow the threads laid out in the First Kindling; between Twigs and Kindlings, a khepri builds a bonfire of rebirth, nurtured by the breath of a thousand stories.

Do not crush me, traveller. Let me show you my soul, hoping it finds reflection in yours.




Love Letters

Sometimes you don’t need a poem, or some pithy prose.
Sometimes you need a love letter to yourself, and the sisters who carry you.


So this is to a girl I know.

To the girl who slays dragons just to get out of a bed
Sunken in by late nights turning thoughts over in a turbine mind
The girl who shows up for every day brimming with energy she never had
And a to-do list longer than the hair she cut off
To erase the weight of grief and missed chances
To the girl
Who hides her hour-long internal monologues
From colleagues and friends
Every time they suggest a shared meal
Because eating is a daily betrayal of Haruki
The demon child who moved in when she was just a teenager.
The girl who learned to tame Haruki all by herself
To sit through her tantrums
And wait for her to go back to sleep.

The girl who shows up for everyone
Apologises for everything
Whose greatest fear lies in not being there,
Not doing enough
Who hates herself for questioning whether others are doing their part.

The girl who forgives friends for missed birthdays and careless insults

The girl who gives lovers her whole heart and comes back to fetch it
Blackened and bruised
And forgives them still
But never forces anyone to stay
Never begs for absolution from a turning back.

The girl who never felt she belonged anywhere
The girl who never believed she could create
Because it isn’t fair to be smart and artsy
And later, because it isn’t fair to be smart and pretty
The girl who learned to choose a box and stick to it
Before she burned it to the ground
Because she could be everything
And she chose to be.

To the girl who learned to shrink from her radiance
So that others felt tall
The girl who hides the magnitude of her responsibilities
Her pain
Her heartbreak
From those who love her
Because she can heal your hurt
But no one knows where to begin with hers.

To the girl I grew up with
With the infectious laugh
And the pained memories that birthed a wicked wit
The girl who only ever wanted to know that she mattered
To the ones she chose.
The girl with diamond eyes
And a steely heart
Big enough to carry the world
Strong enough to shield it

Bold enough to fight.
Mad enough to win.

To that girl
I love you.
Welcome home.
It is not always easy here
But you are always wanted.


It is not
In the constellation of skin and sweat
That we find our truest selves
There is no greater loneliness than
The unpresent presence
Of another
And yet
We yearn for the closeness
Of a love that lies exposed
And vulnerable

And yet
We long for the warmth of another
Sleeping side by side
As our exhalations meet and mingle in the air above our heads
Joining our frail human selves
In a marriage of dreams that weave into each other
With every breath
Rising to the ceiling
Renewing love by morning light

It is our truest selves that come to the fore
Stripped of all pretense
We learn to be
And be still
In order to hear the gentle stirrings
Of souls meeting in flesh

In order to see
Constellations colliding
In a lover’s eyes.

Lupus Luna

Call me fierce before you call me beautiful

I do not need your lion’s mane

You will not hear me roar.


I stalk the moonlight in my twilight pelt

passing between trees and past lives whispering in the witching hour.

I am the wolf

I am the witch

I am bloodied fangs and amber eyes

I come not to conquer

but to claim


This delicate lover can be


Protector, defender, champion, king

Call me fierce

Do not dismiss these flaring eyes as flickers.


I circle my pack. I shield what is mine.

Soft prints scatter in the soil:

Moon witch becoming wolf

Wolf born from a winter’s moon

I belong to the night; you always knew

that your love came alive in the moonlight


sweet Sun

My love is not the gentle warmth of a summer afternoon

It is the bonfire keeping demons at bay

The chill air caressing your face with the cool hands of death

while your blood boils beneath

It is the howl of the wolf sighting its Mother

too far to hold

too close to abandon.

My love is an eclipse

Giving you respite from the labour of giving life.


Call me fierce, my love

You bubble and brim with hot air and hope

But it is for me that the night goes wild.

Water Moon

Who told you

that the little voice in your head

was madness

and not intuition?


How long has it been

since you last trusted yourself?


How beautiful it must be

The day you answer the voice

like a friend

as her words water the desert

you have made:

Pining for rain

While a spring lives beneath your cracks.

Twigs, 5

We do not have to use words,


Words are torture to some.

There are other ways to understand

and countless ways to care.

Words are how I name feeling

But with you

Feeling is enough.



I fall in love
With the truth
Harsh words
Barbed words
Syllables wrapped in thorns
Full stops firing
Round after round.

It is only
A coward
Who fears discomfort
That hides from this.

We do not keep company with cowards.
We wage daily war
On living in shadows
Cast in uncertainty
And mistrust.

Pull the trigger.
I will raise my head high
While deceptions distort the air
I will open my arms
To the death of ego
And the birth of something
by the vanity of self-preservation.

It is not knowledge
But truth

That is the real power.