I have my way with words,
while you draw moonlit circles
around my tell-tale heart
in the fading highway streetlights.

You have your way with hands,
firm, yet gentle like
a rose with steady thorns;
tucking away those pesky hair strands of mine.

I have my way with distance,
a star whose light long died
but never ceasing to mesmerize
those who dare gazing at the velvet night sky.

We both have our way with meek,
yours soft to the touch; rain on burning wounds,
mine a sharp long knife, smooth across your cheek,
as both we longingly complete our long forsaken muse to keep.

© fey (26/05/24)

As I kept my head down on the meadow,
all the murmurs of the bugs were speaking,
unintelligible syllables, the air in afternoon's glow,
and in the distance birches creaking.

You were striking mid-town errands,
the pace of life kept men at bay,
but you froze at the aisle for carrots,
thinking them as alien bouquets.

Instead of roses you collected
those orange flowers at that aisle,
so not alike them, disconnected
but the thought of them brought you a smile.

Me picking on that bundle carrots,
for my pesky, haughty parents to stare at,
as if you were to gave me flowers,
as if we had our own agreement,
in these secret after-hours.

© fey (26/05/24)

Light my fire,
shade and tender,
embers dark,
heart surrenders,
to you,
no vigor,
to you,
the sweetest of liquor.

I call you
mine.
I call you when the lightnings flicker
in the brazen afternoon.
The gleam of eyes still linger
on the milky porcelain of moon.

Until no spark shall burn again,
Until we meet with no restrain.
I love you,
I love you with the utmost of care.
I love you when the sun turns gray
and the seas recede and cease.
I love you in the darkest of day,
until we meet, until we fade
and only the ashes remain.
And I will love you no less.

© fey (23/05/24)

There the sublime clouds drift swiftly,
in a sense were the white rearranges
the future to a distant storm that hits me
and whatever on its way might changes.

I gather the moss, moist around the edges
of where my head lays still and longing,
I gather despair where the butterfly catches
the ranging motion of insects foreboding.

I tried to stay around the scorching sun,
its rays even illuminating the darkest of shades,
maybe I'll stay safe and sound on the longest of runs
life unmistakingly sends towards its hidden fates.

Maybe I'll be safe
in this cornflower-blueish maze
where the periphery of its vigilant gaze
skirts the tiniest bit of hope towards my way.

Or maybe not.

© fey (20/05/24)

I keep the monsters at bay today,
Their future claws on my peripheral view.
The clouds are swelling in a distant gray,
As life hints me to this uncanny hue.

My eyes searched for God today,
Not in a way people keep praising about,
More like how bees know where to lay
Their small and delicate tenants; hinting no sound.

I let go of sorrow today,
As the breeze carried the chatter of birds astray.
And as the last rays of sunshine wandered along,
I carried my ****** home. I carry it home.

© fey (19/05/24)

How strange, the silvery strands of rain,
tuck against the ***** canopies forlorn,
the sky an unwritten paper-white
and I
feel it slipping; the control of life (I ought to keep)
as droplets keep dripping and writhing,
the starless night keeps spinning.

They keep talking about
the things to do after graduation,
as if
life is always this mundane line of time we're facing,
never stagnating, always wailing
in the distance, its heavy alarms not changing.
**** this societal construction,
virtually leaching, draining, money keeping
capitalist ******* we're never willingly leaving
behind.

How strange, the silvery strands of rain,
the only thing real, the only honest feeling
of mine.

© fey (18/05/24)

Poets and flowers persist alike
They both bloom and wither away while they align
To the harsh winters, the shifting currents of life
has to offer

Will you gently dance with me
till I too,
wither?

And will you hold my petals
as if you were to
kiss the palm of my hand too
as we both sway away,
as we both drift together?

© fey (16/05/24)