I can't write tonight,
but I'll force a couple lines
and hope to see revealed
all the answers I'd like to find.
I can't fight tonight,
so I'll sit here and smoke.
If I can't forget my sorrows
perhaps I can make 'em choke.
Just full of strife tonight
and all alone I wallow.
So I'll just grab another,
I'm seeking company in bottles.
I can't write tonight...

a bell, twice, vacuum hiss
the elevator squeal
                                  should've known
                                  should've known
high heels
above
                                 moving away
laughter
bikes bumping
down the stairs
                                a bell, twice, vacuum hiss
                                the elevator squeal
can you help me
can you help me
                                banana and cinnamon cake
                                bed sheet lashing
kitchen closet bang
                                    leave me
                                    have me
a bell, twice, vacuum hiss
the elevator squeal
                                   a telephone calls
                                   insistently calls
a door slamming
                                   a bell, twice, vacuum hiss
                                   the elevator squeal
stay
help me
help me to die
                                    plastic bags
                                    groceries falling
                                    angry gross old voice
a bell, twice, vacuum hiss
the elevator squeal
                                      steps
                                      rustling in the hall way
a door opening 
                                      no one
                                      would you
a door closing
                                       water filling a bath tub
a bell, twice, vacuum hiss
the elevator squeal
                                        *******

I know a girl or two.

There's the girl that will dance.
She will mend your withering bones,
and deduct the sticks from the stones
But the teal and black
will always bring memories back.

There's the girl that will lie.
Your adolescent hand
held tighter by a broken rubber band.
The queen of "would-be"
indifferently using your insecurity
as a blunt tool of jealousy.

There's a girl who will give you hope.
Indirectly teaching you everything
while transforming your dreams
into bits of meaningless string.
The apathy with every rainy night,
the cracked fingernails and
every hollowed-out fight.

There's a girl who will actually care.
She'll  waltz and she'll swing
and her open wounds will sing.
A hand to help open the cocoon-
the glowsticks that lit up
the unyielding light of the moon.

There's a girl that will tease.
Opening her scabby heart,
taking a hit,
and a forgetting the broken part.
She won't care if you're there;
she'll show her bruises anywhere.

But most importantly,
there's a girl you haven't met yet.
She's tethered in between
your adolescent regret
and everything unseen.
Your journey towards finding her light
is only slightly out of sight.

I know a girl or two.
But the one I haven't meant yet
is the one who will give my life
it's dormant, yet effervescent hue.

When the dust swirls in the March wind
the forlorn noon is thick with flames of the forest
and the meadow sighs in gold yellow sun

my eyes seek Krishna in that aching void.

She grazed the cows from morn till twilight
and though eldest among the siblings
she was schooled only in the blazing days
learning to pull her herd to greener pasture
venturing into marshes none would dare tread.

Not one groom could be found for her
bypassed she was for her fairer sisters
that went to school grew up were married
and ushered new inmates to the world.

Then a few summers past
when I had almost forgotten her
I saw her forehead smeared with vermilion.

But why she had to come back
playing once again the shepherd girl
gathering them for home at dusk
crooning aaaaaa….oooooo…..

I don’t know if Krishna went back to her husband
for after a few days she wasn’t seen again.

Only the winds howled in the forlorn noon
and the little shepherd girls who came after her
whispered she had at the in-laws
hung herself from a tree.

Your sigh roars in my ear as your shudder under my hands rocks my core.

.................................................................­.................................................................­...

                          It was there heating
                                            sloping cavernous craniums

                         It was there illuminating
              marble hallways

         It was there immolating
                              witches at stakes

                                     Its fierce essence
                          frightens wilder-beasts

                                   Its mesmerizing radiance
  lures moths to annihilation

                       When in love, we often become
             both wilder-beast and moth

                As children, we learn
             to leap back from the flame

                               When old, we are rolled
                 into iron incinerators

                                    And every day between
   We are encompassed by suns
                       We are consumed by flickering passions

                                  We set-off firecrackers
                           for amusement

               We light candles
                                     to measure time

                         Veladoras to whisper
                                 to gods

                                          Fire is Life

                                      Something in us will
                                            forever burn.