she basks in the sun's warmth
her half brilliantly glows
she dances on starlight
soft quiet steps on each star
as she twirls, twisting
the cosmos around her.
and yet her other half
hides away, unseen
her secrets embedded in her
forever companion, the
shroud of darkness that is the sky.
how mysterious and how beautiful
she is tonight.

in the dead of night
cruising past the streetlights
in a college student's car,
who am i?
i'm not american in these streets;
i'm not indian in this skin;
i am just another shadowed face
behind the windshield.
another pair of headlights reflecting off the asphalt.
another fleeting thought,
if even that.

regrettably,
i layed in bed
before i got myself dinner.
when i had gotten up again,
only a single cold plate remained
on that table for two.
my only company were
the memories that dined with me.
they laughed with me as i ate,
chased me back to my blankets,
wrapped their arms around me,
and slept with me.
and i couldn't breathe.

no matter how much i tell myself
you're gone,
i see you in everything

i wrote your name in pencil
i would erase it before you passed me by
but, watching your back distance from me,
i rewrote those letters like i
could not wear down that pencil enough

and i wrote your name in pen
that day you saw it, it was embedded in ink
no eraser could hide those feelings
but truly no pen could encompass the answer
written in your twinkling eyes

then i tried to draw your name.
but what color could possibly rival
the love your heart contains? and
how do i put on this paper what
the sound of your laugh does to me?
every time i wrote every way i love you
i just wrote your name again and again

even now
it's all i can do anymore

i am saving words.
i find them in dusty corners,
old words piling up over the years,
and i collect them in my hands.
i look under books i wore from use,
between scribbled annotations in their pages.
in my journal i find words
i thought about a lot,
and sometimes, i find words in the spaces
that i thought about too much.
i search in the bathroom sink,
where they get caught in the drain,
and i work up a sweat to pull them out.
i search in places i used to go
just to remember again,
i am saving those words.
some of them i meant for my friends.
a few look like they were
for people a bit closer than friends.
most of them are for myself,
and i am saving those words for myself.
i am saving them to remember
the life i've lived thus far.

a hushed conversation between the leaves and wind
lonely crowing from cicadas at summer's end
bubbling fountains crashing like grand waterfalls
shuffling in the trees; scraps of nuts raining as the squirrels feast
girls laughing together; boys calling each other
in the distance, a deep growl as tires tread asphalt
and thoughts, blissful thoughts

a million miles i've spent
walking along the shore, seeing what kind of people
would wash up here,
were worth it when i found
an iridescent pearl in the sands
looking for a wandering heart.
from nobody else in this world
could a single glance
set my nerves dancing like fireflies in moonlight
and tug for my smile to dance along.
i've forgotten just how much
the sand has sullied my calloused feet.
is this what the fish feel like
when the warm ocean washes over their gills again
to give them life?
fervent, vibrant life?