your brown sugar eyes
and glances that tasted
of soft candy and vanilla
lifted away the gravity
and it spun candy floss
in shades of pastel clouds
within a heart that was
as bitterly grey as can be.

a yesterday
or two ago
i watched
my child
grow up and
get married

but today
and in the now
i watched
my child
fall down and
get buried.

silence is a
distant bird
at the back
of my throat
daring to fly away

conversation
is a broken
winged dove
wishing to soar
yet never getting away.

i quietly wonder
if i had done anything
wrong to reclaim
another faultful star

as i stare outside the window
cascading past endless stretches
of worn paved-roads
and vast fertile landscapes

and everything looks transiently gargantuan

but i momentarily glance
at the empty bus seat next to me
and i feel rather small again

flimsy music in my ears
speaking of infinite sentiments
and i’m disenchanted again
these mellisonant voices are enough
they have to be enough

to keep my wandering mind
company against the ephemeral madness

i flick my red lighter open
and hold it close—but not too close
to my dying pen; wondering, for
a moment, if the same trick could revive
my spirits like the stuttering ink,
tempted to burn my flesh back to life

but i merely stare into the flame—
flickering unsteady still—and blow it out
so it doesn’t have to be lonely
as my heart is right now

as i travel from small city
to smaller town, i wonder where
all my friends are right now
how they are all doing
what they are doing

and if they’re all having fun
without me.

how can i say
that i envy the chase
from the tip of my pencil
to your graphite gaze?
spitting my heart
onto an endless canvas
of greys and blacks,
hoping the red would stain…
but it never does.
only your floral words are
indelible on my skin
and the reverse
is just a lie i tell myself
so i could sleep a little better
every forsaken night.
the truth is far from your moon;
beyond all your pretty stars
and iridescent eternities,
it is despairingly beyond my fathoms.
but i hope, and again i hurt
for butterfly smiles
and deluding taciturn undertows
and nightmarish illusions
leaving bruises of you
on the very tip of my lost tongue
and all over my wept eyes;
a lifeless empty void
against the autumn shower
of your warm hermetic glances.
and there is no one else
to keep this rusted clockwork
ticking rhythmically to the beats
of your mindless cradle…
and that is the ultimate folly
of this ascetic destructive shale
that i tactlessly call my soul.
for a fool’s machinery,
this chemical heart is.
So indiscernible to lose itself in
such vitreous self-infliction,
and sabotaging the very blood
that my tiring arteries
now regain, thus to sustain
the very memory of your breath
in tranquil consonance…
foolish—and yet; a fool, i am.
a fool for believing that this
lie was past the dark side of the moon
and beyond my wounded stars
and lacklustre infinities…
you are despondently beyond my fathoms.
but i hope, and again, i hurt.
darling, just how can i ever say
that i envy the calm reflection
from the incipience of your melody
to your coda’s revelations?

hurtful twinges
filling up every
corner of my
expanding coroner’s
disease; debilitating,
destroying, until
what’s left of me
is nothing

hurtful twinges
crashing down every
space of my
suffocating mental
affliction; desperate,
decaying, until
what’s left of you
is nothing.

a severed midnight
taking the calls of a thousand
dreaming souls, fading

i wonder if the rain will wash us away

drifting into a somnolent embrace
against clashing tides of aegan
until i have sand between my fingers
breathing in the hawthorn blossoms

reaching again until it falls
and stops crying beneath my feet

just close your eyes and softly
rest amid sounds of synaptic crickets and
faint traces of chanterelle
between your slightly-open mouth

waiting to hold onto forbidden auguries
coalitions of sweeter reveries
i couldn't find behind your eyelids

and then, perhaps, after a million years under
the stars, i'll open my eyes to revelations

the light sleeps on. where can we be alone to watch them?