Aim for my heart, calling Heaven above; an angel has
left me to tears, down on my knees- racing across a
bridge reaching out to my heart. My eyes have been thrown
into a sea, deep down until I drown, in the depth
of her passion- it’s her world in my eyes I see

As she touched the most sensitive part of me, this nuptial
union; we are only human, seeking to multiple- there’s
always that desire of creation in both our eyes. We’re now
together— alone at last; to reproduce our life’s kind,
and putting ease to restless minds

Her kiss of oxygen turns into flames- I turn off the lights,
and still see her body glow; skins smooth as silk- free
from these robes, to a sight of her that soothes my tongue
And with a coy smile, we’ll rekindle the fire of our body’s
fireplace once again, tonight

Give me a handful of compassionate lines to a poem
even as I lay panting with scorched hands- I still
hold the purpose of holding her hand; the love
of my life with her beautiful eyes- a muse of things to
write; being an ignitor of tenderness; she rains
down a well full of dreams- a shower of stars
As the spark of our love has given us both a
flammable night, ...illuminated all in an instant

Do pay attention to a love mate who comes to you,
for in these modern days, they seem so, so few…
a thousand may come my way, but even a thousand
more could ever add up to the worth of my very first poem

There’s a perfect smile drawn from a shadow
-as it suppresses memories far sanguine to the mind,
at times we marvel at the stars; looking up to at
what we could be: though we are bright stars filled
of many, many scars

Dreams lost in mirrored streams; cascading days
into one another- tears lost in a serene night;
your luminous eyes could never tell enough of your
tragic story; as their naked glances bear witness to
other people’s perfect stories, who see other people’s
perfect stories

They seem to carry a proud radiance; it does seem
that way, if you don’t really know the full depth of that
story— there’s a darker majesty behind that perfect
smile with mounds of earth covering over their trembling
vein, and unyielding flesh, to come under self-control

Puzzled— are all of the pieces falling away,
or falling quietly into place: these are assumptions from
the course of nothing, hoping to become something-
As for something for the time, I’ve come to ask whether
the feeling of nothing isn’t a feeling of things not fitting
well into their place

The picture feels like a maze labyrinth of emotions,
written so well out in braille- as that’s all I can honestly
feel right now

As the laid grail, comes from a sore back with *******
sacrifices- through the chambers of night; that which scares
me the most, is the constant nights where I’m trying to put
the puzzle pieces together of my life.

“I miss you,”
And that’s the fact I hate the most- aggrieved
By every memory of us, every grain of our love
Even if it was for a short while, cos for a short while,
I felt so happy to experience love again, to smile
Because someone made me smile, to laugh with
Someone in private, even if its for the silliest of things

                                                                                                    “I miss you,”
                                   And that’s the fact I hate the most- and it’s in such
                               an uncomfortable experience, that the mind tends to
                                 wonder in all its what if’s— but more so, I question
                            myself of whether I was the one more in love than the
                                                                                   both of us combined…

                                                    “I miss you,”
                           And that’s the fact I’ll always hate the most.

Envious to myself to be called out as your
baby, despite how much she nurses me-
all the night she prays for my blessings; while
during my day I act out as one not considering
how blessed I am to have her… her clothing prepared
to robe me with the covering of much respect

Her sacrifices are unsung; reaping all for me to sow
—and by the bruises on her heart, it has to show
as young as she was, she reflected a mother's love
put all together in our pretend house

we were unashamed under a tree’s fruit to ripen-
perhaps I missed how to her, this was our very first
date- but please forgive me, for not seeing how my
childhood friend didn’t take our childish love
games as just another game
                     I thought it was just a game of house

In, and out, out, and in
breathe in and out, out of breath by letting
the toxic vapours in— coals of heat beating down
a ****** nose; won’t any of this sin, dissipate from
these constricted pores. Is he not still suckling on
love with milk teeth- how sheepish are his eyes, to
bleat himself of being silent

Oh, how my tears have been cleaved:
the sheer will that lives out on the streets- I’m well
fed & bred as a duck, spread out through time as the
covers of a bed: but where to rest on this old
mattress, now springing up  

                            (I’m still hiding your hands
                       far from the reach of feeding yourself
                the harvest’s spoils, to make your teeth rot—
Everywhere, their mouths are wide open as doors;
hinges for the bite of blight teeth- all doors are
portals judged by what comes out, but more so
what they must keep in