Rain drops feeding leaves
Deserts growing cold at night
Spiders spinning homes

I winked or they twinkled
To love or be loved, which one you rather
We were limitless within the limits
Embracing one another ...

when the curtains are drawn
you just never know what's going on
backstage
they say he passed peacefully in his sleep
but that doesn't put our minds at ease

i remember his smile, a contagious face
we should have seen the scale tipping
how heavy it must have weighed

another one gone
from the class of o one
our ride or die boy
may god bless his two sons.

I love the control
of painting my forearm
with swollen ribbons
imprinted on skin.
        They tingle when hidden
       begging to be exposed to sparkles
of a sun.
    Like the little creature living inside
  my heart.
       A nightingale
with daggers for wings
   slicing into my liver
     singing her song
which goes “the end –
    the end is coming,
          – the end –
     the end is near.”
And I’ll hold her close at dawn
singing our song;
just two kindred spirits
waiting to die alone.

I used to be a romantic. Staring into her milky pearls, illuminated by the dusk orange, mango light glittering into mine. Lemon tinge saturated skin.  Caressed by the salty wind, sometimes, I felt, even before mine.

The grainy gold-ash pebbled ground like a powdered cushion, our feets sunk deep. Whisk, and whim of clashing waves, crashing into the shore. Nebulous sky blue mirror of perpetual unrest, trickles. Bickering seagulls on sandcastles.

My olympian gaze at venus, her acoustic voice. Her arachnid stare into mine. She's a siren. I used to be a romantic. But she consumed me. She's consumed me and there's nothing left...Now I'm just a fool.