The ocean is not always blue—
sometimes it’s black,
intimidating and secretive and deep—
that being said, your eyes are full
of the sea over a trench at night,
and I am a diver,
not afraid but enticed.
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 6:36 AM UTC
~
*Sailing off
To discover destiny
To find fate
Following the blood trail
Of the combatant moon
Until arriving upon
The carnage of
What was once
The new world*
~
Jul 26, 2020
Jul 26, 2020 at 3:22 AM UTC
what is it called when you write
but never want anyone to understand.
am i selfish-
elitist
a fraud.
or am i-
a coward.
the human heart.
is a poem
i am not.
an author.
i am not
the ink.
not the curves.
the rhyme.
do not read into me-
i am simply
alive.
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 10:27 AM UTC
twelve thousand nautical miles
stretched between two lovers
this is not a bedtime story
once upon a space the heart leaves for a swim
deep into the moonlight
out to the Atlantic
she talks to the distance
weeps for the present
love, why must you dive
the war has begun, the world an assassin
time grows silent, static
my love, do not sink
my lungs, a sultry pair
slow to a tango each time we kiss
cabeceo, extraño el abrazo
breathe out and draw in
slowly, i forget this
do you breathe easy because you're calm
or is it the other way around
the omniscient is sleeping
sailing
away to a dim dream
you are raging quiet
my constant lullaby
nights of warm hazel and almond eyes
take what's rightly yours
everything left of mine
each night my disobeying eyes
melt into linen
unfamiliar
foreign
what is this place
my harbor floats in Paranagua
awaits in a humble cabin
with kind eyes
and steady hands
my love, stay alive
all is fair in love and war
still i don't think i deserve you
due so tender, my hands dance clumsy
take not what's in front of me
tremors pause, and
doubt, a Machiavellian mischief
a patient daytime thief
plunging to the inner depths, a ruse
a strong swimmer like you, rabbi
surely not i
my love, show me the shadows
i will not run
time is not light is not space
so i swim
meet you as the sand drains
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 10:25 AM UTC
it took me an hour just to take a bath
thinking that traces of your touch would leave my skin
if i only scrub hard enough
they don't
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
the echoes of your stares
the rumble of your whispers
trapped in the pages of my journal
untainted
sacrosanct
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC