when all else leaves
the monsoon doesn’t.
in the absence of
the world, I smell
july in the breeze
coercing me gently
like a grandmother
with a treat
when my eyes dart around
and I’m too blind to see
when all else leaves
the monsoon doesn’t
like a friend from sixth grade
peeping through the front door
with umbrella hands
and puddles for feet

my roots are firm now
the storm stood tall
my ascent was steep
but I had good company
a herd of mountain goats
meditative travelers
of life and death
the awesome peak is in sight now
my smile has grown quieter
and my heart,
a drum that announces rain
resounding

I've seen the world
let me take a seat
and put my pen down
now my life can begin

I want to find your bed
right next to mine tonight
no oceans
in between
just one time
I'd let you roll over
into my world
and never leave.

I'm 25--
there's something so high fashion
about being a recluse

no?

there's a small setback
my backpack is weighing me down
let me stop by an inn
and dance on my heels

this fever won't keep me for long
the innkeeper is a kind woman
she tells me she's my mother
and feeds me warm rice

I wait for the days my love feels
as natural to me as my writing does
no second thoughts
no need to edit
only momentary pauses
when I feel watchful eyes on me
when I'm performing for the invisible
men and women in my room

The ****** is in sight
and it's blinding like the sun
let's leave on foot
before nightfall

let me meditate
on your voice
my sweet moon
you sound
like a being of the sky
a silver cloud
that turns with the night
damp blue

your laughter
the news
of first rain
a freshwater stream
lifegiving

the sound of your
cotton footsteps
my early mornings

the sight of your feet
my good fortune

I'm a poet, I must
carry my notebook around
just in case you turn to
look over your shoulder
on a sunny afternoon
the sun squinting
at the blinding light in the sky

I'll be back
when I have more to say
can you blame me
for falling short of words?

goodnight