My beloved April moon,
when the poets write ghazal
they are writing about you

The goddess of love,
Aphrodite,
cried when I told her
that you may leave

Her tears shedding
for you to stay,
like drops of Venus

Come back
For the goddess
of love’s sake,
come back

I will break all my limbs
to have her mold me
as a clay sculpture

To carve her knife
into my skin because
this is how art is made

To have her look at me,
study me, conceal my flaws,
till I am finally perfect

To be owned by her,
her creation to
admire and love

When I write a poem,
it is for you

Even if it does not
begin with love

You were to me what
Patroclus was to Achilles

What Aphrodite
was to Sappho

If I knew that one day
I will be apart from you,
I would have quietly chosen death

What an exhausting year

My hungry heart torturing  
me with its violent desires

My trembling hands
aching for her warmth

My mind battling itself
trying to return from war

My depression,
a bloodthirsty dog,
and the nights keep coming

My soul, a wildfire
consuming everything,
leaving me with a lifetime of grief  

Yet I am still here
Shattered, but alive

As I stood by a window  
smoking a mint cigarette
at my miserable job

I saw two butterflies
flying together

One was orange, and
the other was white  

Two lovesome creatures
existing at the same time as us

The orange one made
me picture you peeling a
clementine to share with me

The white one reminded me
that there is still beauty in life,
and it is greater than my pain

There are more butterflies
that I have not seen yet, and
I wish I could see them with you

I swore not to write you,
but I cannot sleep
because I envy your pillow

How it carries
your curls, dreams,
and tears too

Your old bed sheets get
to inhale your scent while
I suffocate from your absence

I still remain in mine
burning, yearning,
dreaming of you

I will set fire to your bed,
so you would rest your
head upon my chest

Lay with me tonight
till you find your peace
on someone else’s

I am but a snowy mountain
carrying the heavy weight
of my burning longings

I shall melt completely
to feel the sun’s warmth,
like my lover’s harmful touch

And although nothing will
remain of me in the morning,
I will go knowing I was loved

All that I am
is a snowy mountain

Desolate,
carrying a heavy burden
that people call snow

Aching in one place
for an entire season

Longing for
a little warmth
without the risk of love

Love burns me,
and all I ask
for is warmth  

To melt,
I wish to melt
completely

Perhaps,
I will fall in love with
the sun this winter

Or die trying

As a kid, I never dared to
have dreams of my own
It was prohibited,
amongst other things

When asked to make
a wish on my birthday,
I only wished for the
nights to stop coming

I grew thirty years older
when my pearl was
stolen by filthy hands  

All I was left with was
an unimaginable
fear of her piercing eyes

I prayed to a cruel god
with every fiber in me
For him to either save me,
or return this body of mine

I lost my self, purity,
and youth all in one night

I died before
I had the chance
to simply live

I have never wished
for anything from life

But if there is one thing
I truly wish for before
I am in the arms of death

It is
to be held
by her

To soak in her
warmth, scent,
and harmful touch

To melt deep
between her thighs
till I dissolve completely

To release an inhuman cry
from under my skin into
the dark abyss of her pupils

To be kissed by
her cruel mouth
before death comes to kiss

Love,
you should have kissed me
before my lips started to bleed

You should have teared me apart
before my flesh turned into
a graveyard of longings, for you

But I promise you this:
No one shall touch me
after you, not even I

My aching body,
my worn out mouth,
my fever-burned eyes,
my hungry heart,
and the rest of me
is yours for a lifetime

Though these words
strangle me to write,
you do not long for
me as you once did

I do not know who else to be
if not your lover all-night long—
Endlessly

Love,
Know that I am
willing to live twice,
if you are near me

Touch me
if you wish,
but do not leave any bruises

Write me a poem,
I wish to be your muse
Again

Break every promise you made,
but do tell me that you love me still
Lie to me, my darling one
I wish to only be adored by you

Hold my trembling hand,
I desperately need to feel
peace for a little while longer

Soak your scent
into my cold flesh,
it yearns for your warmth, too

Make me cry,
but do not lick the tears

What is there left to say?
I am weary and out of breath,
but if my words ever reach you

Know that I am willing
to live twice for you,
if you are near me

Love,
I will miss you
for a lifetime

And it is alright,
you can touch me,
but do not leave any bruises

Write me a poem,
I promise I will not say
I am unworthy of you

Lie to me, my darling one
Tell me you love me,
I wish to only be adored by you

Hold my trembling hand,
I desperately need to feel
peace for a little while longer

Soak your scent
into my tortured skin
for I need your warmth

Make me cry,
but do not lick the tears

I heard you call my name in a dream
Did you need me, my love?

I stayed up all night
desperately crying your name  
Only to carve it into a poem

Won’t you come to me?
Lie to me my dear darling one,
but please do not leave me
in the darkness hungry for you

I beg of you,
my dear,
my light,
my first
and last poem

On a bleak midnight,
do come to me with
your ardent desires

I will give you my broken heart
to break again if you ask of me

Or at least light my last cigarette,
and set me free

If the filed of lavenders
sighs when it yearns for her scent

If the sunflowers worship
her raven hair, like the sun

If the moon weeps with
longing when she’s asleep  

If the cherries bleed in her
mouth like my heart when she left

In a river,
I will pour my love
as you watch it sink

On your shoulder,
I will pour my salty tears
and pray to forget you

I wish
to catch your fever

To burn
To burn
To completely melt
into the almond of your eyes

Your frigid heart made
mine weep with longing

But I shall keep burning
for you till you suffocate

Next to my pillow,
I keep a bottle
of her perfume

All of my longings are
for her small hand
holding mine

My heart still aches,
but only for her

And my poems only end
with her

My ugly mouth is stained
with cigarette kisses

It knows only the heat of a burning match
lighting a harmful kiss after another

I long
for my fingers to smell of her
and not the cigarette smoke

Tonight,
I am grieving my self

How I let my hair grow
How you let me go

How your cold absence burns
more than the heat of August,
more than a cigarette to my lips

I cannot sleep,
I think I’ve become my grief,
I admit you make me weak

I had a dream where I was in the middle of the sea on a small boat sailing to the unknown. I do not know if there was another soul accompanying mine, I may have seen a shadow or felt a presence. But I was struck by the awe beauty of the sun gracefully setting before me, it was bright lavender-pink. How divine! How perfectly sublime that scene was. But only I witnessed it. Alone, abandoned, and abhorred.

I looked around me for a clue of where I might be, but there was nothing. Nothing but a sea of crashing waves, and the still water underneath me. I, lost in a sea of nothingness without a compass nor a destination. Without a soul to soothe my frantic heart. Nor the tender touch of a lover’s hand gently pressed on my aching skin. But the sky was greater than my melancholy! It spreads like an endless cry, and its silent echo pierced my heart. I may have found peace for a brief moment there.

I then noticed the shimmering water that had scattered flickers of gold from the sun’s reflection, and I ardently longed to drink its glittering movement. Every glittery drop of water was solely trying to carry my heavy ocean of grief. I came to realize that when the sun and water kissed, the color gold was born. The sun’s final act of love was to surrender itself to the sea. To willingly drown in it. To melt into it; completely, each night. At dusk the two will always merge into one another—

But I, what was I to offer? Who was I to surrender myself to during love’s hour? Into whose arms shall I melt? I saw only insomnia’s fiendish grin when I tried to sleep. The never-ending night passes through me with its sharp silence leaving open wounds. Sometimes, it swallows me, and I remain consumed for months in its cruel solitary darkness. Ever since, I grew to fear the sun’s mournful absence, and I worshipped its light like a sunflower

—My anguished soul wished to cease this heavenly dream for eternity, and hold it close to my tormented flesh till I am healed. For I have never felt such profound waves of sadness and serenity. And before I awoke, I thought, “Even the sea cannot bring me consolation”.

On a night like this,
long ago,
I promised to die

I carried this heavy promise
in my scarred wrists
in my empty stomach
in my black lungs
in my sleepy eyes

I wish to finally sleep,
but I fear I may never
dream of you this time

I wonder if he
still sees me in his dreams

Or if he is
dreaming of another

Does the heat of
August burn his skin

Like his
cold absence burns mine

Why do I still ache
for him?

Oh darling one,
I fear I may have been
but a passing dream to
you

I beg of you,
do not go when
the comfortless sky
sinks into its rainy sadness

Winter is yet to come,
and I wish to be near you

The sweat of an orange
upon her upper lip,
melts into her skin

This mouth hungers
This heart yearns

They both burn
from their
ardent desire for her

I am feral lover
with a stubborn heart

It is true,
my love for you
is unwavering

But your absence pierced
this heart of mine
For eternity

I remembered the lines
of her shadow, and wept

Every line was an ardent poem,
and I worshiped the poetry of her

I cannot seem to leave
my fervent solitude,
but if you asked me for
apricot jam with fresh bread

I will hide my sorrows
behind the blue curtains,
so you can ******* yellow love

It is death
that I want

Not the warmth
she brought  

Not orchids
next to my bed

Not another
burning sunset

Not the joyful
songs of Icarus

It is but death
I yearn for

My heart is grief,
my skin is blood,
my voice is silence,
my soul is loneliness,
and my promise is broken

There are certain things
I cannot explain such as

This suffocating flesh  
This howling knife
This harmful yearning   
This hungry heart

Grief sleeps in my bed,
and I lay awake on the floor

She hides the sun
and spits in my coffee

I have known her only for five months,
but she has consumed me completely

She is me,
and I am my grief

I will heat the soup
you forgot to drink

After I kiss the space
between your eyebrows

By the gods, I cannot
bear the possibility of
the morning light kissing
your back as you dream

I fear such tenderness
might be fatal, dear

This morning,
I watered the lucky
bamboo you gave me

I kept it near me,
I let it be kissed
by the sun,
I took care of it

Not because
you asked me to,
but because I love you

I know that I am the thorns,
and you are the ever blooming rose

So why am I
the one bleeding?

Darling one,
I only ask that you
dance in my blood,
and drink it as if wine

Bloom for me

The day you left
Azrael himself wept

And the suffocating silence of your
absence was deeper than your grave

Who dares **** a child
by burning their yellow?

It shivers and weeps,
and in oblivion it sleeps

Since you took
your last breath

The food tasted
like the bruises on your face
like the dry blood down your nose
like death

When I stood next to
your still body,
your corpse,
you

You were quiet,
I searched for you in your eyes,
but they were swollen shut

I tried to touch your face,
but the coldness of
your skin burned mine

My heart is grieving,
my skin is burning,
my eyes are bleeding,
and you are still dead

To taste your tears of joy
To drink lavender tea poured from your mouth
To savor your lips after you have licked them
To wrap your curls around my neck till I suffocate
To melt into the scarlet of your cheeks

This is not a love letter,
I simply long for the forbidden parts
of you

If you still wish to seek me for
another poem,
another momentary desire,
another ***** tear to lick,
another night to melt,
or for a little death

I will be waiting,
burning,
yearning,
for your small hands

You,
I tried to forget

Does my longing
not reach you?

You,
who abandoned my trembling hands,
it is my dreams you will not leave

But tell me,
is there a cure for longing?

A silent lake of my torments,
her silhouette drowning
in a thing we once called Love

A constant state
of an unsatisfiable hunger for her,
whom the poets called longing

A year has passed,
and I am still writing
poems—pleas—for her

Three years,
and my stubborn heart
still yearns for hers

It has been so long,
and I fear I may have
dreamt you, dear one

Alone
with my ardent longings

Mourning
the mornings I spent in her absence

Three years,
and I still burn, want, and weep

There is
a foul taste
in my mouth

A cave with circus
elephants in my chest

A sinking ship
in my stomach

A grieving cloud
in my tearful eyes

It is as though I
have died after you

My bed felt like a coffin,
shivering with agony,
I laid

Both the weeping angels
and the weeping ghosts
sang me a lullaby of sorrow

I drank a sea of my salty
tears hoping to drown

Hoping to meet you there at
the end of the shimmering moon

Covered in my gushing blood,
I asked Azrael for a kiss

Lover,
I still fear the heavy
silence of the night

Will you lull me
to a long sleep?

Lover,
I fear the sleep of death
where I dream,
but do not see your face

Lover,
I have not seen you
for two years

Lover!
I fear I am
already dead

This morning,
I am a mourning sunflower

Willing to burn than
lose my deity’s warmth