Are you happy Sisyphus?
Do you ever think
Of the end?
Do you miss the ones
You loved,
And the ones
That loved you?
Do you wonder,
Of the flowers that
Grow to your right
Or maybe your left?
Is it truly fulfilling
To push and push
Just to start all
Over again when you get
That little feeling in your chest?
butterflies of content,
False hope that always
Let’s you down,
Not slowly, or with care.
But abrupt and so full
Of disappointment.
I’d dare think of you
As a happy man,
Camus thought that
The struggle itself
Was enough to fill
A man’s heart,
But I stand here
Holding unto my
Door frame
As the wind howls
And tangoes across
The empty street,
Blowing the leaves
Of a seasons past
Trying to hold unto
My feet.
How can I find happiness
In struggle Sisyphus,
Will it always be like this?
Im too curious,
Too distracted,
Too ready for the end,
Oh, I can’t wait for all
Of this to end,
Maybe then I’ll see,
That as my fingers latch
And my body flails,
There always has been
A smile on my face.

I find myself lost for words
Every time that I stand in front
Of you,

I can feel my eyes looking for
Yours getting disoriented along
the way, eye contact has
never been my
Strong suit,

As I see the walls close in on us,
I can feel all that I’ve been wanting
To say get stuck on the roof of my mouth,
Creating a sky with stars that burns
A hole through,

In the few years that I’ve lived,
I’ve never been a talker,
But I think of all the ways
I would tell you how
The way you walk away,
Leaves me craving that you
Would turn around and give
Me a little more of your time,
Precious, I’m lost in what
I should have said,

In the space in between your steps,
In the way your hair curls and drips
Down your shoulders putting
Down a blanket where I could lay,
I find myself caged,
Bound to the bars by ball and chain,
Wishing that these words would
Find their way to you,
To let you know how
You make me feel
On a day to day.

To you,
How much city
Do you need,
How much hunger
Will suffice,
You have feet
That will walk,
You have hands
That will do,
A voice that echoes
Through the shining lights,
And ears that could listen
To the beat of the stars
That shine above
The sky scrapers,
The city will bring
Spring and summer,
So dress in color
Since today the wind
Was born among
The rain that puddles
The streets.
laugh, crying will
Bring so much cold,
More cold than forgetting
To live.
And I will laugh with you,
Parked outside a diner
On a rainy day.
It doesn’t seem that cold
Today my friend,
The roots of the trees
With fallen leaves
Are healthy,
Waiting to flourish again.
Oh, how much city we have,
So much thirst.

Between the freezing
Rainy days,
your cold stares
and deafening silence,
I don’t know which
One is worse.

Ay, despertador en las mañanas,
En taza de cerámica
Tan ancha como el cielo
O tal vez como la tierra,
Te creo entre temblequeo
Y la serenidad de una
Noche estrellada.

I sit down,
Near the flame
Riddled coals
On top of a box
That’s made
to cook pernil,
My dad opens it
For the 100th time,
To show me how
it’s going,
Excited,
This is the first time
They have done this
Since they moved to
This little town
Of broken arrow
Oklahoma,
He hands me a beer,
Sits down and tells me
Of past heartbreaks,
Even the ones before and
After my mother,
That I should
Stop with the
cigarettes,
Lectures,
I sit and listen,
With a new perspective,
Skinnier than I was last time
I was here,
With how good the food is
I might leave with the pounds
That shaded in the shirts
That I wear,
My little brother,
Playing the piano
He got for Christmas,
Wearing a grinch shirt,
My uncle comes in,
Sits down and talks about
His time with my great grandfather,
I find myself happy,
Listening
Invested,
In times of loss,
Of regret,
Reborn,
A Red Baron,
Among the ashes
Of what once was.

It’s midnight,
Im driving down
69 north
Towards Oklahoma
The stars won’t
come out tonight,
Maybe it’s too cold
Or too hot,
Or they are too shy,
They just won’t come out,
Leaving the sky
With a distinct
Grey hue,
To my right,
The sound of
Metal hitting metal
Follows me,
A friend maybe a foe,
A beast,
I can barely catch a silhouette
In between the trees and
The foliage,
Until we reach
The radio towers
That showers whatever
It’s on the other side
With a deep red
I’ve only seen in blood,
A train
It sounds tired,
Discouraged,
I empathize,
I wonder when will
It be bestowed the
Honor to rest
And if it’s loved,
we both
Just keep going.

It’ll always be you,
The same way
It’ll always be me.

In an ideal future,
I’ll have a
House near a river
By the mountains
Of Puerto Rico,
My own cafe
With amazing books
And ever greater
Baked goods,
But the lines
Get blurred
When I think of you.

You,
Angel of the fortunate,
Breathtaking and majestic,
Wearing beautifully woven
Sun kissed robes
That follow you
Like your shadow does,
Only the sweet scent
Of peaches and cream
Shapes you,
Divine as a Greek sculpture,
With a smile that stuns
And gives photographic memory
To whoever has held a
Four cloverleaf before.

I’ll hold your hand,
Walk down the path
Behind what we
Would call our home,
Suddenly the silence
Start to get deafened
By the sound of rushing
Water and leafs that
While dancing with
The breeze crumble
In your admiration.

As we sit on
Moonlight showered
Mossy stones,
I’ll find out,
I can’t seem to
Remember your name.
And while  the water
doesn't touch my feet,
ill get up to keep walking
until my nervous system
gives out and the burning stops
or I find you,
Whoever you are.
To show me how cold the water can be.

Once again
I stand still
And not like
a tree,
Or a parrot
through
The eyes of
an ocelot
Or eternity,
Or prophecy,
I am but
the minuscule man.
I am Man,
Not the moon,
Celestial stone,
In love,
Amid whiteness.
Or the stars
Twilight thieves,
Sparkled fire,
Fluttering with
The wind.
I don’t
understand
What the
wind says,
So I let it talk
Among the branches,
I can hear it through
My open door,
Invasive,
Running through
My living room,
Through wood
And memories,
Bridges burned
I close my door,
A black hole,
A deep minute
In silence,
Misery,
Like moldy bread
On the table,
Overwhelmed
With grief,
So quite,
Like loss
And agony
And ***** water.
But everything changes,
The night passes,
A second,
A minute,
A year,
And everything changes,
Rye grass starts to grow
Around my toes
And below my feet,
Life,
Tenderness,
Inevitable,
Beautiful and warm
Like laughing
Or running,
Or drinking coffee.

In times of discomfort,
We’ll flourish
In between shivering
Trunks and mildew.

The pollen of a new
Life will give and give
To generations to come.

And as the shadow
Of a well crafted cloud
Covers what the eye can see,
We’ll fly high above
With the sound
Of a solitary bell.

And we’ll do,
In a glorious fall
Ignited in passion
That melts the skin
And scorches the bone,
As comets and stars do.

Inclinado en una tarde sombría,
Entre tinieblas y la falta de calor,
Te solté como un pájaro nocturno
Y te vi volar entre las primeras
Estrellas que centellan tú llegada
Como mi alma cuando la tocastes
Por primate vez Amor mío.

Y aunque fui yo quien te solté,
Eh ido marcando con antorchas
Tu llegada inesperada.

Tengo historias que contarte,
Comida para enseñarte,
Besos que regalarte,
Callados, delirantes
Se pierden en este pueblo
En donde te amaba.

Oh mi vida,
Entre el silencio que me arropa
Y la voz algo se va muriendo,
Algo de angustia y olvido,
Algo entre las nubes y las estrellas,
Algo como la caída de un árbol.

Sin embargo, mis cuerdas vocales
Se bañan entren estas palabras fugaces,
Algo canta entre señales de humo,
Gritar, cantar, huir entre hojas
Marchitas del invierno.

Tú estás aquí, tú no huyes,
Tú me responderás hasta el último grito,
Sin embargo, alguna vez vi como corría
La tristeza debajo de las olas de tus ojos,
Y mi todo, apenas quedan gotas temblando.

Y triste y fuerte amor mío,
Que haces de repente que no llegas?

In late afternoons,
When the sky isn’t as
Forgotten by the bystanders
That walk the sidewalks
And the more fortunate
That drive the streets
God turns into a magnificent painter,
With oranges and blues and whites
On the blank canvas,
He lets you know how talented
He is with a brush,

I don’t believe in god,
I’m not a good Shepherd
Or the sheep.

But, do you see the color
Of the sky
When it’s the sun’s turn to sleep?

And do you see these hands?
They have loved and hurt,
They have cooked and baked
They have opened and closed doors,
They have demolished the distances
Of all that is land and sea.
yet,
They stop in between celestial change,
To observe an artist at work.

I’ll sit,
Unsatisfied In the well
In which I dug myself in,
With nothing but these hands
That I have done so much with
And the sky that while
Being turned into another museum piece,
signals me another night.

He who walks
Will find that
The stinging
summer sun
Leads the loved ones
Over clear waters.

Beneath elegant
Palm trees
That when time to
Take a break
It creates a shade
Like no other.

The perfect place to sit,
Only when the flourishing
Mountains casts a shadow
On the other side of
The extensive range.

Even so, it’s such a
Beautiful place to sit.

More when the made
Of fat and skinny and
Happy and sad and
Continuous life
Is there to observe
The sunset that
Changes the sapphire
Blues to flaming oranges

Ready to be taught by
The twilights of the
Most unfortunate and
The seducers.

A dark tunnel
Where the Young
Women jog
And the cows
And the pigs
Have tasted blood
And the morning sun
Is taking a little
Longer to come up.

Tunnel
that can only
Be traverse with
Experience and
Burning cinnamon.

And oh, evil one.
The night will cast an
Eternal veil.

And what an enormous,
And eternal night this is.

What a lonely night.

And evil one,
Between the burning sea
And the pale morning,
You’ll find the quiet
Of husks and dead fish,
Trembling foam of
Retreating waters,
And messages in bottles
Never read before.

And silence will come
Wrapped in a blanket,
Galloping on beach *****
And flying machines that
Leave faster than they go.

It’ll cure the absence of warmth
While the days, the months,
The time passes by.

The morning will come,
Brandishing celestial blood,
Turning the sea ablaze.

To let you know,
That you have escaped
Once more.

Bukowski wrote
“I loved you
like a man loves
a woman he never
touches, only writes to,
keeps little photographs of.”

And I wish that was the case,
Because when the night
Gets darker and darker
And the streets
Get filled with shiny
Lights and long days,

I start to remember the
Smell of your hair,
The silk on your skin,
The dew on your eyelashes.

And the poems
You have written about me,
The bad ones,
And the good ones.

When the room starts
Smelling like rot and
Decay.

And I can’t keep my hands
Off of the kitchen knifes
And the lights flicker
Morse code.

I think to myself
what if I would have stayed
In the comfort of my home
And sunk in the problems
That I had and didn’t have.

What would have been
Of my life.

I took on poetry,
And books,
And more books
To calm the bitter
Taste of salt water.

My heart
Takes no respite,
As it swallows and
Drowns in the
Mediocrity.

While autumn
Sinks his teeth
Into meat
That I so
Solemnly
Follow
Catching up
With every
Living breath
Just to feel the bite
Marks left behind.

My heart is not
One to give up.

I live
Through misery,
In hopes that it’ll
Bloom in the
Evenings of spring
Bringing the butterflies
That I wait to wake up
With one day,
My stomach has been
Empty for a second too late.

And the bees,
Oh the bees.

So magnificent
As they succumb
To the nectar
And take it back
Home to be made
Into honey.

Hard workers in
Look of hard work.

Patience is virtue
And I’ll wait in the
Roaring sea.
Through harsh winters
And freezing rains.

Just to feel,
What I’ve felt again.

“It’s in the water”
They say,
“It’s in the cigarettes”
The yell,
“It’s in the food”
They proclaim.

Only if they knew,
That the earth
Sings a tune
That tells my feet
To move.
And that it’s
Truly in the everlasting
Silence that accompanies it.

I sit,
and look at the
Gardeners with
Their shovels
And mowers.

the steam cleaners
In their white vans
On their way to scam
Their next victim.

the retail workers
With bags
Underneath
Their eyes,
So tired of waiting
For the last check
of the month,
And the second job they
Have to hold.

The mundane drips
From their open wounds,
And I just hope,
To be more like them.

I’m certain,
That one day
I will forget.

Until that day
Comes

I will remember
To forgive all that
Should be forgiven,
Myself for that matter.

And most importantly,
I will love all that
Should be loved,
I will live through
All that should be lived.

I will seek the
Field of daisies
That waits for me
Patiently,
At the mountain top.

I won’t look down,
Except for when I do,
To remember you,
Beautiful and
Only beautiful.

I can’t wait,
To lay my heart to rest,
On the flower bed,
That sits at the peak.

I’ll sit right besides it,
And as I forgive and forget,
I’ll find peace
In the changing of the winds,
And the breathtaking
Sunset over the horizon.

Sometimes
I give a hard look
At myself in the mirror,
My eyes gleaming with
Sadness that has followed
Me from down the road
And my hair all *******
So it doesn’t show how
Much it has grown

I tell myself
I want to be a poet,
Someone that writes
And moves and
Yell’s at you how gritty
Life has been lately.

But it hasn’t been all that gritty,
Or *****, or painful or-
Maybe it has.

Somewhere I read,
That a dead man
Loves the hardest,
That what only matters
Is how good you walk
Through the fire,
That let life not separate us,
And who cares about death?

I’ve come to hate and detest,
Those who hate,
But when will it be,
That I take upon
My shoulders to love.

And love is not
Like a gas stove,
But more of
A bonfire
That turns night
Into day.

So warm to the touch,
But so beautiful
To have when
It’s 1:00 am
On a cold front,
And god,
I just need
Another
cigarette.

Please,
Let me love
Again.

I’m begging.

Be it in death,
Or alive.

Be it awake
Or dreaming.

Be it through
the extinguished
Fire,
Which means
My walk hasn’t
been that great.

To the one,
That lights it
Again.

I am between
Dying and not dying.

I’m probably not
what you want.

Neither am I,
What you need.

But I will love,
The type of love
To move states,
To be alone
If it meant you
Would be coming
Through the door
Any minute now.

it will
Also be rumbling
And the ground will
Shake and
I won’t know how
To tell you how
Much I really love you.

But I will try,
I will try so hard.

To be all I am,
And all I am not.

Today,
I happen to be
tired of being a man,
I walk empty streets,
That feel just as empty
As I stride on the asphalt.

my feet always
Tapping to the rhythm
Of the quiet palpitations
Of sorrow and one more day.

It will haunt me forever,
Missed opportunities,
The discouragement
To wake up remorseful
Again and again.

The sound of love and peace
That Leaves my lips
Every moment that I think
Of bougainvilleas,
The corals in the sea,
Avocado trees.

and You who looks
at me with pride
Every now and then.

In days,
Weeks,
Months
Like this

I can’t wait
To be happy.

Always keep in mind
Your soul
will be written on paper,
Immortalized
for future generations,
Be it good or bad
Or bad or good,
Your energy will
be transformed
Into words.

See,
I couldn’t tell her
how it felt at the end,
Neither could I apologize
For the things that I did.
But oh, how she shined the same,
Be it if she wore lingerie,
Or her favorite dress.

I’ll find myself
thinking of her a lot,
Her smile that brightened
So much that it would
Dim the lamps,
The bulbs,
Even the sun
If it had a chance
To cross her path.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off
Of her,
Only when she directed
My gaze,
Her eyes twinkling
Like the stars in the sky,
Now so far too.

Every now and then,
I’ll reach out,
Feel the warmth
Upon my arms,
But then I’ll stop
And take a step back,
Because apologies
aren’t enough.

There’s many different ways
I could describe the thought of you,
How once you walk out
the night comes alive
In a whirlwind of Stars
And shady characters.

How the scent of vanilla
That you carry like
A cross upon your shoulders
Leaves a trail that I follow,
My feet tired of all the walking,

I wish you would sit down
With me for a second
A minute,
For a moment,
Share flying beliefs,
Let the night sky
Serenade you with your
Favorite songs.

I would stand
And lend you my arm,
Under a black canvas,
We’ll paint
The night starry.

It still won’t be as beautiful as you,
You are art,
In a world where it seems to be
Under appreciated.

All I wish is to have you
In my arms,
As we lay waiting
For the night to turn into day.

So I can go back to work,
And start again.

The sun crawls over
my dusty window,
And through the *****
beige curtains

Rays of sunshine
bring color to my room,
Though I appreciate
the sentiment

I grab tightly unto
the ropes of light,
I tight myself a noose,
and slowly set it
Down for later,

I’ll move a chair,
To my favorite
Part of the living Room,
I’ll put on my best clothes,

Smoke a last cigarette,
And breath a little fresh air,
I hop unto the chair,
I let my hair down,
I put the noose around my neck
I can feel it itch and burn,
I give my heart another chance
To let go,

An overwhelming feeling
Comes over me,
Like my chest is trying to explode,
I lament as palpitations
Try to cave in my rib cage,
As if day turns into night
And there’s nothing I can
Do to stop it.

But god, oh god.

I want to stay awake.

Feel the breeze that knocks on my door,
And the thought
of being able to love again,
Grants me a little bit of hope,
I can’t keep living like this,
I’ve cried distilled waters
So many that
Lately I tip toe
Around containers
That catch the excess
My skin can’t retain.

I wish to surrender to the wind,
I Open the door to let it in,
As it passes through me,
The noose around my neck starts to fade,
And I’m free,
For maybe another Day.

Today I left my skin hanging
On the closet door
Took out my skeleton
For a walk
Let it breath fresh air,
Touch the leafs that are
Hanging on low enough.

We sat underneath the shade
Sad and thinking,
Thinking and sad,
About things out of
Our control,
Unlike the branch
That sweeps the floor
When the wind takes it.

More like the shadow
That humbly holds tight
Unto my Feet.

Neither my bones
Or me understand it
Even if it’s a part of me,
A third of me.

I’m sitting in my car
Chain smoking,
It’s raining hard,
Rivers run through
The side walk
Making it a little cleaner,
Waterfalls rush down
The roof tiles,
The sound of it
hitting the ground
As thought inducing
As the nicotine
My body keeps
Asking for.

Thoughts of Her
Paint me a pretty picture.

She loved my writing,
She read all of it,
The love I had for Her
Could be felt
Through the screen,
Through the paper,
Even Through my lips
Whenever I had the courage
To tell Her.

I could see it in Her skin,
My words marching
With bayonets and
Strikingly bright
Torches that lit up
The whole room,
My hands rightfully  
Followed,
Climbing up Her legs,
Up and down Her hips,
Moving up Her back.

In days like these
The rain would be
The least of our
Problems.

It would be how much
I wanted Her..

And how much
She wanted me.

I see myself
Tumbling down
The hill once more,
The grass scratches
My back and arms
rocks cover themselves
As I come rolling
Past them,
Hitting every last one,
I cry and plead
for forgiveness,
I ask god for time
And time again
I ask for a glimpse
Of the garden
On the other side,
I bury my nails
Into the skin of the earth
I crawl past the rain,
I crawl past the heat,
The undying days
And remorseful nights,
my heart starts to pound
As the smell of jasmines
Mists down the peak,
The ground crumbles.
And I see myself
tumbling down
To silence once again.

Can I call?
I want to listen
To you sing
What you've
done lately,
Hear you crack
Open a can
Of laughter
That has been
Saved up
In the attic
For the past
Few months.
Rations you
Had saved
Up for a
Better day,
I want to
Be quiet
With you.
And hear
You say
That everything
Will be okay.

In the quiet of night,
I’ll sit near the amber
Scented candle,
I’ll stretch my hand
Over the flame that
Sits on top like a bee
Peacefully sleeping
On the petal of
A sunflower,
I’ll stir it up,
Let it sting
Until the night
Not so quiet anymore
Blows out the flame,
Seeing it dance before
It becomes absence
And pollen.

This morning I woke up
with music rolling
down my sleeves,
I sit up and as a soft ballad
That the universe sings
Runs laps on
the rims of my ears,
Making me jump up from my bed
To slowly put out my arms,
I can barely keep my eyes open
As I look to see
My right hand holding
unto the hips of the non existent,
My left hand grabbing
Tightly unto the hand of memories,
I waste saliva to ask the quiet room
If they are ready yet,
I don’t wait for an answer,
I slide through the path
That has been walked upon,
I twist and turn and smile.
I let the emptiness
rest upon my arms
As I let her down
as close to the ground as I can
Just to bring her back up
In a subtle graceful movement.
The music stops
and I let go.

I traverse the clouds today,
In search of a better day,
Forgotten eyes,
A momentary break
From what the past
Brought and the
Future will bring.

I look out my window,
And suddenly there you
Are again.

You are the blend of
orange and blue
That stretches
from south to north.
So pretty to the common eye,
So undetected to the ones
That don’t know you.

You are the feeling of peace
I feel when the plane
Shakes to the ground
Just to set himself straight
Before touching concrete.

You are the
Air underneath
The wings,
That takes us
To my destination,
And All I wish
is to be grounded
Once again.

Oh, how I’ve missed you,
Shining jewel of the Caribbean,
Petite isle of the eccentric.
I still remember your streets,
The way they curve up the mountains,
Mountains that you can see from the coast
Where the water rages war against
The corals and the sea wall.

I’ve seen you at your lowest,
Broken down by the winds
Of prophesies,
Your people cried blood
And sweated through your
Unrelenting days.

Oh, but the way the cosmos dressed
The night sky, clashing with your beauty.
It was almost worth all the pain and suffering.

I want to
go right
And pick
the perennial
flowers
That cover
what the eye
can see,
I’ve seen
the Fields
of Indian blankets
And spider lilies

I think
of myself
laying Down
and resting
my eyes
As the sunset
showers me
With color
and despair.

Today
I’ll go left
instead
To see
what waits
For me there.

Across the street
From where I’m sitting on
An older blonde lady
Cries her eyes out,
Her friend or girlfriend or wife
Consoles her, making her laugh
In between tears.

I wonder what keeps
Them up at night

They won’t remember
this moment ,
Not because it’s not special
But because she seems so
Good at making her
Happy, even though
She was just
Crying herself
A puddle underneath
Her feet.

This was not
The first time.

I think to myself
I should have made her laugh
As thoughts of yesterday
Run through her mind
Ease the pain that can’t be
Eased with paper towels
And ice packs

The sky is getting darker
It looks like it’s about to rain
I should tell them to run
Back inside.

I wouldn’t want it
To ruin their night.

As the sun sets,
I see familiar
And unfamiliar cars
Driving by

People that like me
Have highs like
No other,
And lows that
They’ll never get over.

I look out into the street
One last time
As cicadas sing their blues,
I wonder who’s truly right
Or who’s terribly wrong.

How boring it must be
To be able to wake up in
The morning and do
What you need to do.

I will dance around
My kitchen table
As dishes pile up.

I will lay on my bedroom
Floor as the laundry
Screams that it needs
To be done,

I would go into the bathroom
If it wasn’t for the person
In the mirror that despises
Me so much.

Oh but when I get that spark,
That little moment of clarity,
time stops,

I become a fraud and can’t write
Poems anymore,
But the way my hands move
Around the dishes,
How fast the laundry walks itself.

It must be perfect to live
Like this forever,
But oh, how boring.

I sit outside in 100
Degree weather
Sweating bullets
while Smoking
my first cigarette
Of the day

Even if it’s torture
I actually enjoy
How it feels

Raw and unfiltered
Just like the thoughts,
That rumble away
In the form of questions
And ****** encounters
That haven’t happened
And probably never will

I crumble under the heat,
As I sit patiently
Waiting for the noise
Of the wasp
That flies near me
To go away

So I can light
another cigarette,
And expect to forget
How love felt.

They say death
Feels Peaceful,
Then it must feel
Like the shade
Of the branches
Of an old tree
Dancing with
The summer breeze,
Giving the sun
Enough space
To warm up
A specific spot
On my face.

I haven’t
experienced
That side
of death yet.

I’ve seen how
It hides
in the rot
Of the well
deserving,
Bringing peace
to those who
Yearn it.

I’ve seen
The cries
Of those
Who fear
It.

I sit
Underneath
The tree
Feeling
Peaceful today.

So
Maybe
Another
Day.

I cherish the days
I get out of bed
Without thinking twice
About it.

Walk to the bathroom
Brush my teeth,
Feel the water upon my face.

I cherish the days
I can go
Up and down
The stairs.

Go to the kitchen
And make something
To eat.

I cherish the days
everything
has the scent
Of coconut and vanilla.

The sun rises
from the east
And sets
in the west

I cherish the days
I realize I want to live.

I walk behind empty gas stations
And broken windows,
My palms sweaty from the heat,
I think of the polar caps
Slowly melting away.

I open the door to my apartment,
I sit down on my leather couch,
My hands are no longer sweaty
But, I am still sad.

Please gods, help me get up
Today it’s one of those days
When I just want to lay all day
Hide in between the sheets
Fight monsters in my dreams
They are nicer.

The way your eyes glisten
when you smile,
Remind me of the white
sand back home,
Warm to the touch,
getting washed ashore
With the reminder of foam
and one more night.

The sea rocks itself to sleep
while you talk,
Even in times of storm
you would give me peace,
The sun comes up
and comes down when you
Say the word
and can’t seem to keep up with
The way your lips curl.

The way you walk,
the way you think.
God, if there’s a god
he must have been proud
Of making you.

The sea will come for me,
drown me underneath
the weight,
tell me that
what I’m feeling is wrong
But how can I be wrong
when all of that stops when you talk.

I can’t keep up with you,
and I probably never will.
But if you gave the word,
if you told me you needed
me for a moment
I would miss an airplane
to be there for
you.

Even if I’ve seen this everywhere,
in movies
in books,
in songs.

I will never get to love you
how I want
to love
you.

And it’ll always be my fault.