beneath my fingers: smooth, polished wood, a breath. and they long to make their way to the still beating of your heart.
there,
there,
almost as if unseeing you look past me to flip a page, to paint color over words you must remember,
yet unremembering---
i am here. sometimes i think you remember me. sometimes, like a shade of crayon appearing randomly in your hand, a soft hushed word. silence. no talk of fleeting butterflies today. no sound of your leavetaking.
there, the long silence of an empty hallway.
(for A)
(in collaboration with jacob dominguez)
Sep 12, 2011
Sep 12, 2011 at 8:01 AM UTC
it rained without warning
the world outside
a gray, unhappy look.
night
continued to fall.
she, telling herself
not to lose her way
that night of confusion.
wind had began again.
whipping in eaves
above her head.
a man’s voice sounded
at her shoulders.
all at once,
alone with the world.
this man---
wildly against her.
her ruffles wet and wilted,
she turned to him
fallen.
(words from Kerima Polotan’s “The ******
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 12:56 AM UTC
I have always been friends with the rain.
I want to feel it on my skin
and dance with it.
The rain dances, you know.
And I want it's freedom.
Mar 4, 2011
Mar 4, 2011 at 4:05 PM UTC
today, i stalked
a stranger
on the sidewalk.
(or rather
he walked,
into me).
from a distance, i followed
his footsteps –
footfalls:
gravity,
gentle on the ground.
a rhythm, i follow –
a sound.
we dance.
footfall after footfall –
he walks away
from me.
Feb 4, 2011
Feb 4, 2011 at 2:42 PM UTC
The world’s eyes own her now.
We stare
at her ocean
foam body
to crash.
To
crash.
I see my eyes
speak back
as I
look
into hers.
You would
think
she’d
cover
herself.
She
a
play
thing ----
soft
brown
clay.
How I am
asked
to pose
too,
she teaches
me,
at
the
edge
of
the world’s
eye,
every time.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 1:50 AM UTC
These days, I am all over the place.
In a daze.
Half asleep, half awake.
Walking,
sleep-walking.
Waking.
Sick-ly, and sick
with mind-noise.
And then,
quiet.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 1:08 AM UTC
TWO-LINE RENGA
by Cezar Ruis Aquino in collaboration with Sooey Valencia
For the longest time I have always thought that the most beautiful thing in the world is a blank page.
Perhaps next to a page where some words, innocent as birds, have found their way to.
Jan 24, 2011
Jan 24, 2011 at 2:44 PM UTC
he is but one person. i will fall for someone one day, someone who loves me. and it will be like dynamite! stronger than this. but i wont get tired of it because it wont run out. it’ll be like fuel and fire.
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 5:01 AM UTC
sits under a book
i am reading.
it is waiting to scream.
1.11.11
Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 2:49 PM UTC
books of love tucked under my arms
sweat from my armpit on their covers
because the wind is not with me
i walk on an open field
and trip on a rock
a image of falling
only to kiss the hot hard earth
i get up, and wipe the dry soil from my lips
02/27/09
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 2:11 AM UTC