Oh love
why are you
so elusive?
This morning
you disappeared
from my ontology.
I too can be reduced
to tears.

— Oxford, September 2017

I met a Dutch gambler in a dream;
she had a raw beauty, Savage and mischievous.

We bet and all her wagers did seem
so full of promise, innocent and auspicious.

But no matter the twists and turns of chance
it was a sure loss, she had known in advance.

Oh I fell for her, but what I felt for her
was only love.

For even the reasoner’s art
bends to the treasonous heart.

— Oxford, May 2018