I want to lay blankets over your head,
Hold a flashlight while you read my palm, my wrist my elbowmybreasts
I want to pay homage to your chest and
It's many rhythms, 3/4, 4/4, 5/4
Whatever, I don't know anything about timing,
Or I would have met you 6 years ago,
Before she broke your heart so that by now perhaps it may have grown
The size of this room we share
Instead, for now I'll hear you out in whispers

and in quiet
     morning conversations

"I need space" she said
And took away, in her eyes,
My whole universe.

You breathe in.
A kiss:
how do you take
your coffee?

I prefer it sweet
and warm
against my lips.

I breathe in.
A story:
coffee grinds pour out
into wet garden soil,
later staining the clothes of my
kneading daughter.

She prefers water to coffee,
sober and clean,
though
studying dribbling coffee like
a drip of morphine.

How do you take
your coffee?
I reply.
A revelation:
most mornings I make it fresh,
but the *** brewed overnight
somehow tastes sweet.

NO**
You shout this to the world, and the world turns still.
How dare the rain fall, a relative call.

How dare the earth turn, while you still yearn
How dare they laugh, while you still ache.

How dare the sun rise and night fall,
while you have no relief from the grief at all.

The wreaths are dead.
All has been said.

when I came home I laid
with all my clothes on
sinking into my bed
then fell asleep

it was comforting
being held by cotton
for the night
it reminded me of you

everyday I have slept
in these clothes
that I don’t like

because they remind me
of how your blankets
hugged my hips
and your velvet hands
touched my skin

I’ve slept in my clothes
every night since then
and now it has
become a habit
I’m not really
reminded
of you
anymore

Out in the sahara is a dusty sea,
shockingly,it's where you want to be,
Instead of right here sitting with me,
Another unexplained mystery.

Out there is a scorching heat,
Amazingly, you desire the heat,
Instead of here in my cozy seat,
Another mind rending filth.

A warm embrace to you wouldn't do,
Nor an unconditional love to you,
But the pleasures that are untrue,
That is sickening too.

on top of the mountain is lonely me,
Dreaming that you will return to me,
To rekindle our ecstasy,
O, what a fantasy.

Though torn and broken, i still care for u.
All because my love is true,
only return and i'll reach out to you,
For the value i still recognise in you.

Sour adventure by Uzzi

You are no longer
a child
innocent or forgiven.

Slower now,
dreams have taken flight
with butterflies
and *****
thrown beyond your reach.
No longer child-bright,
you stand in court
where age
grows upon the wall
and eats the air.

Your shadow lingers
frightened at the door
unconvinced
then bounds away
to chase a dream.