I trespassed into the woods
following the fragrance of a wildflower.
There was a spring of silence, birds,
and tall trees; silent indeed only
the winds sounded silent,
once I found her, she whispered...
Are you feeling dark and gloomy?
Black and empty as a dusty chalkboard?
Spooky like foggy lights falling along leaves?
Did you paint your walls with
Broken crayons?
Do you remember when we lay beside
each other, bodies warmed by darkness?

A lonely ache knocks. Asks how
far I will go to find you in me.
When everything cloaked in silence?

Wounds will heal as time flies
Call me melancholy

Then it was raining
frequent and changing
shapes and layered into tranquil.  
We are closed inside
Like two butterflies
In a jar of cocoons
Above 1110 feet of arching silence,
along the long roads,
Look for the distant meadows

a warm kiss in the neck shortened
a long paragraph of a longer book
into a word
The air is filled with
an old book’s smell
a long-dead memory
a toys broken head
a piece of cloth that you left
an old calendar with a marked date

We will arise from this cocoon
Trespass into those woods
flew away from here.
Somewhere beyond June
Like a pilgrimage unknown
There’s daylight and ardor
she is a winged angel perched on a tulip
A Season of Woe,
A Season of Merriment

I have an adobe where I run
whenever I want to be in solitude
I call it my one-word poem
Between a meadow and a lemon tree
along the edge of a grassland.
Where everything in the world
become quite and wither away.

You are the tranquil stillness
after the rumbling of a stormy storm
the forgiving words that fill my sky
and caresses a burned soul

You become a rain
in an endless conversation
Sometimes a road map
to the world unfolds
With a touch
When I leave
I leave
A slice of an umbrella  
We hold nothing
But a deep kiss
In your unseen soul

I don't have faith in the ocean
on its indecisiveness and enormity
I don't believe in memories
with its abstraction and claims
I don't believe in words
As it always tends to lie
I only remembered the first time
And the last time is yet to come
And I am that someone
your lips kissed
the way the wind kissed me in a daybreak
I retain you like the taste of your fingers
against my mouth

Did the earth knew the hard rush of the sea
When it reaches the cuddle of the coastline
Here it’s full of gloom with all our failed connections
Derailed wagons in its lost tracks
Scars, blood, wounds, and fragments
Repetitive, rhythmic, redundant

Will you find me faster next time?
Throwing a pebble in my silent, still pond

We had a white tea ***,
And some random Sundays
Only a teapot between us
Near an autumn lake
In a faraway places
and endless cups of tea
Where did that go?
Now the only thing that
I can see is someone?
Paint blue in the white sky

We sat there in silence
time passes and

Stillness engulfs like a layer
you bite on my shoulders like an exiled animal
Made a deep cut enough for to bleed
Every time I move I can feel you on
My skin that burned into my flesh
I took a bite again and it tasted like strange fruit
On a gripping embrace, our winds weave between us


There is nothing quite remaining like a cry
As i wearing a collection of scars
The first bite of your bottom lip
Sultry, wrecked and drunken
You are the lemon tasted spoor
I want to gently nip at your ear
Devour every corner of your crescents
Wanted to outline your lips with my finger
Like carving a wet stone
I knew we were venom when in love

You open the beer bottle with
your teeth kind of a girl
I do not smell your perfume
Notice that you aren't misted any
I can feel you when
I reach the place you want to be touched
your hands pressed against me
Love me till the night darkens
taste me till I become tender to loose

Spring me with the wings
stitch them into my peel
make a sip from my rough soul
bite me to leave a stain
and kissed lips will always reminisce
the ones that made them shiver

I am filled with endless things,
I am quiet
I won’t let the moment go
And that is why I kissed you!

It’s deep dark. I am talking to an owl
who is awaken in my tree.
An unknown radio station playing
“I Ain’t Got No Home in This World Anymore”
make the night bleed in black.
Those paper planes you made flies
around in a storm within.
Uninvited butterflies possess the
room through the smoke scented windows.
The temperature rises and my fever burns,
an empty needle still stitches a wound in me.
The song doesn’t stop but repeats.
Shoot me in the point-blank.
Have a well dug deep grave.
I stole a journey from you.
Be insane my tremors,
a long-awaited winter is coming.

Still long to go this long night
There is a greater possibility of
getting your heart ruined
but you do it everyday
Do you remember the old house
in the end of the street?
I always had that unhappy
feeling about the colour.
Now let’s paint it in hard yellow.
I still knew you close
your eyes when you smile.