In your dreams,

I’m waiting there;

to visit me,

to show me where.

That little throb

from your chest –

remove your fears

and begin our quest!

Wisdom and Faith,

it’ll be our strength

to surmount all

that Hades sent.

And then, one day,

we shall return

to the distant hill,

from where we learned.

But if in your dream’s

where we only meet,

please wake not

and forever sleep.

I’ll do the same

so never fret –

we’ll be together

since this sunset.

(like all firsts, you
may bet)
it hurts        (but
through the second, third, fourth and nth)


time
(it does the) hurts
all the more,     just
to make it


perfect; to seem as though

    magic


my heart    (could be red
not for)

it bled
for you


more    (for it is
     more)    than


a tatoo

I've had trouble wrapping Christmas gifts;
it has always been your job to do this ***** work.
I work to get the Christmas bonus,
we do the shopping,
you do the wrapping.
Plain as day.

But you left me, and I had to do all the work by myself. And so
I made a list of steps in the new skill I have mastered:

1. Unroll the gift wrapper. Spread it. Cover all bases. Never adore the design and adornments; it will be ripped anyway.

2.  Put the gift in the middle of the paper. Estimate how much paper are you willing to save or spend and waste.

3. Tape the ends. Put tape wherever. Don't try to hide the tapes. Secrets are meant to be revealed anyway. TIP: The more you put tape, the uglier your gift wrap will be. You think tapes will mend loose ends but it will simply destroy the aesthetic value of your gift.

4. Fold and tape. Tape and fold. Design it however you like. Origami the **** out of it. It will be destroyed anyway.

5. Put the gift card. Write with your best handwriting. With a smile swathed on your face. Add a dash of artificiality. No matter what you put here, this will not merit anything; It will not be read anyway.

Four Christmases you have been wrapping those gifts. Now that I have
wrapped some this year, I'm pretty sure why you've left. Plain as day.

*PS Wait for the gift I am sending you over. I wrapped it just for you.

Your poems and stories,
I have read. You
write to remember, while
I write to forget. You
write to create, and
I write to destroy. You
write well.

Marvellous,

Ethereal glow in my *****,

Lingering… why do you linger in

Another space and time?

Nature perceives things you ought (and i

Caught) to hide in the silhouette of an illusion – a seemingly heaven or

Hell!

Oh, **** the repression! verdant

Love! impress me, suppress

You.

And around her the world spins;
just her, my et cetera, ever since.

You said I was
enough. Saying I was
meant you shouldn't have left.
How many times do our
cats call you every night?
They look for a person
on your bedside. I lie
to them saying you would
come back. One day,
they were missing you,
crying; it is also the sound of my heart
falling apart.
I felt sick. Picking up pieces
of myself, as futile as making a castle
in the sand, to be washed away by the waves.

And so I left home to
find solace in another's embrace.
Countless women I've met, used
to the unfamiliar cielings and
epiphany I have when morning came,
that her embrace is not yours,
your lips aren't the one
I kissed. The devil
must be so happy but
inside me I am empty.

Every passing day and night,
amidst all imperfect smiles, and
hollow moans and laughter,
I touch my chest
to look for
anyone in it. I miss
the cry of our cats.

The heat of the blazing sun  
will be nothing  
from the gentle breeze of  
your calm and soothing voice.  

The agitated sand and dirt, flying,  
will be pacified,  
from then, time shall freeze and so is  
all the noise.    

What shall remain are  
the tunes you play on your piano;  
the twinkling sound  
of youth, of exuberance,            
          for in every hill or sea,        
          every cloud, flower or tree,  
you shall be eternity --            
          every breath,            
          every scent,  

every note            
          of my unsung melody.

Why spend Valentine's Day
with bitterness? In your heart
there is a yearning. For love
grows deeper when suppressed. In your mind
being rational makes you sane
but afraid. For love
lingers if left unnoticed.
Spend today with laughter.
Spend today with glee.
Don't suppress that feeling.
Don't suppress that love.
Even if just for today,
give in. Fall completely.
Remind yourself. You are loved
even if just for today.

I have never wanted to
cross.           The bridge
was empty              and
in        utter desolation.

Dearest C,

I always thought my love
for my best love
should go recorded through
words.

Once I was a poet with words
so easy to strung. I was
writing letters and stories and poems about love to
people who did not love me back (or was I hoping
for a love greater than what was given?)

I always thought my words would suffice, and words do
melt hearts, shape minds and
chart uncertainties.

But I grew tired. When I met you
I was lost for words.
I was a writer
no longer and
my words are just plain.

But it was in you that I realized,
words sometimes have no meaning, that words were often left
unspoken. I was no longer a poet
but you loved me anyway.

Now, I wish to write you poems and letters and stories as a symbol of my thanks.

I miss you.

Always,

A

In my memories,
on places we used to go to --
museum walls and cinema seats
cafe cups and restaurant platters
bus windows and train stations
hotel beds and motel sheets
motorcycle rides and fabulous bridges
condo lifts  and bedroom whispers
kitchen convos and shower sexes
midnight boat rides and stolen kisses

In my heart and mind you live, and
I hope, in time, you'll leave.