I was born a seeker.
A seeker
Of the darkness, a seeker of the supernatural
Light reflecting a heavenly glow, turning
On slow, in the Los Angeles
Mist of summer.

I rode the bus to places unknown, longing,
And searching for a home, looking for something
Larger- bigger than us, something which couldn’t
Be grasped in my fingertips.

I was seeking something which couldn’t be swayed
By the languid winds, a feeling, a place
I dreamed of once on a cold, barren night,

I was born a seeker, so I looked above
For the answers in the celestial bodies,
The twinkling stars in the skies or
The twinkling stars in some strangers' eyes.

I climbed the mountains, and fell just
As hard as I rose. I searched for the vastness
In ancient poetry and prose

I was burned by forest fires,
And burned by my own untamed desires,
Wild under a blue moon,
Hoping to find a feeling
Which would make me swoon.

I was born a seeker, and to this day,
I am not quite sure
What I was hoping to find.

The darkness
Settles in,
seeps
Into the room
By five pm,

My mind is bent,
The time is bent.

Clocks set an hour
Ahead,
My kettle whistles
The tea
Is steaming
Evaporating
What was never
There,
What could
Never stay,

My mind is reeling,
The tv is loud,
His pale hands
Touch my skin,
Cold to the bones.

I miss the sunlight,
and the
Trees.

I long to go home,
my
eyes
are forlorn.

You- awake,
ghastly at the unholy
hour beneath my
crescent and waning moon.

I dreamt of your deja
vu, and spoke to you
through the distant,
unwavering monsoon.

you are awake and
ghastly at this
hour - eyes lit up
with desires.

kerosene drenched
fires- only you,
awake and unghastly
can take me
higher.