I was blinded by the sky today
it stared at me,
without a blink,
so I did the same,
just to avoid missing
the very moment,
when it would speak about you.
But it fooled me:
it took away my sight
ousted the breath of my soul
far, far away
and uncoupled me
from the hope of the living.
But I still remained,
stayed to listen to the wind,
asked the sun to swallow me
and prayed for you
to recognize me this way.

I wish to return
aboveground to take a walk
with the wind and shake
off this stupored, spirit-mood;
this deranged daze by your side.

In this capricious
age of comings and goings
of the other side

I am blessed
for I can submerge into
your aegis, your undermind.

From the sea of smoking souls
I am parted to emerge,
imbuing by aether silk;
the space of your sound.

In this my time of need,
I dream about
those Harmattan-breezed stories
you left unsaid on my skin,
for you were so dreaded by the thought
that your light may come alive from its slumber,
that I may reflect and echo you.

And I am whispering now,
repeating the song of your beating heart,
before you could also withdraw your touch,
and say: rather stay blind than to face with these all.

I unbound my hair...

...and the angel covered his
eyes with another world's light
for her penumbra was not
enough to perceive.

Afterlife.
Naked, true.
We are reborn
By disrobing the disguise.
Unmasked.

You are blood from my
blood, word from my word; my own
voicething creature-kin.

He is waiting for someone else
to put the words into his mouth
instead, he would say out loud his own.
And as pretending the singing,
he merges into unpossessed voices
hiding his song in the noise.
I cannot make out his words, though:
I misread his lips - mistaking a pop song for a pray;
a lip-synced psalm,
and believe every word he shares.

I wanted to be your part
so desperately
that I almost lost
my wholeness.

Embraced by this shape-shifter word,
to relive the birth of sounds,
your voice is the ever anacrusis.

...and you came to answer the door like you
did with my prayers; your replies
sought the questions of mine.

Love...
it took away
my sight for life
unheededly,
it rooted into
the eyeholes of mine
till it reached my core of life;
the heart
I already gifted to you.
You see,
I placed it upon
your very hands,
and, for now on, it is ready
to break out into blossom.
It waits for you to deflower it.

As the lights of the day bled into each other
a silence, like a shady veil, fell between us.
It was more like a worn-out pilgrim:
he came home to stay:
placing his muddy shoes on the doorway
for knowing no wayfarer ones remained.

Without a shadow of a doubt, I used to angelize you.
And you needed no enlightening for your still
kept sharpening your shiny blades.
Now I am at aphelion;
further from the breathing blaze than ever
yet still I am capable of coming clean:

to realize that your shadow only paled me.

This heart of mine is
a wanderer nomad and
now it is on the

loose. It became wroth
and restless for the mind is
bowed down; the shameful

armistice is now
signed. Because it is still
aware that if it

gave upon on you,
if it ceased to love, it would
cease to beat eternally.

I am running
out of daylight and in this
forgotten chasm, soon

I will meet my own
fate to become star-blinded
But I do not mind.

My telluric heart
is going to lose its poor
blindspots of stifling

sobriety by
embracing your ravenskinned,
asterisk lighted nightshade.

Still
Here in
Atlantis,
Mother of pearls.
Iridescent; being pregnant with light,
A world rebuilding - waiting to hold you.
Resurfacing:
Sea the sun,
Finding
Home.

Like splitting the atom I
split myself until nothing
remains but the idea
of me in your head.

Your heart is my only window to the world.
So please, keep it clear for the view.

I've seen the stones;
the sphinx's heart,
the tears of the sand,
the touch of the wind,
the taste of the silence,
the plenty of the vastness
- all, though, existed
without rhyme or reason
for as the shimmering firmament itself,
you towered over me.

Entombing the scream
into my body to hide
the banshee
for the sake of guarding
this terra incognita;
the peacetime of ours.

So, now on I believe that
God created humankind,
according to His likeness;
when I look at you.

In this downpour of
nil a blinding fog descended
and a venomous,

absinthe-mindedness wrapped all
over me, thus all of my
senses were out of order.

Nurturing the blaze in a
war of luminescence when
light against light for it was
provided by you.

Once in a blue moon.
being blue in the blue hour, and then:
'**** it to blue blazes!' - out of the blue,
one may be just out of the blues.

For the true blue feeling gone,
walking away into the wide blue yonder.
leaving nothing but the blue devils themselves
who just keep on talking a blue streak
till one gets into a blue funk.

Like blue blazes, black-and-blue again
one gets stuck in one's own blue chamber
between the devil and the deep blue sea,
being blue around the gills,
keep on listening to the blue note
over and over again.

I am looking for a blueprint for love
the one I've once felt about you.
The perfect blue paper
that helps me figure things out
that tells secrets about a lover's skin and sighs
- the ones I knew as yours.
Now I wish to redraw, then admire its design:
relearn, then follow its patterns
down to my very heart.
I want to rebuild its structure,
recreate the way that is no more,
to have the perfect edition of it;
a guide to my true self,
the one who once knew what it felt like
to be in love with someone like you.

Yesterday an old,
dusty notebook appeared on
my desk which I have

never thought to read
or even open again.
It was the book of

days filled with your words;
heart shards of mine which I kept
for another life;

for another me.
But now on I cannot tear
apart my gaze from

its pages for I yearn
to morph into one with your
own vowels and consonants.

Back in those days, who
broke your wings that now on, though
you are healed at last,
you cannot even bear the
sweet thought of flying itself?

Rumor has it one takes pictures of stuff
that one is afraid of losing.

The girl who captures moments with her camera
seeking the company of entangled dwellings
beneath the womb of nightfall
for the city is silent
in this witching hour of her heart;
her misbegotten heart which,
with - step by step - every beating
also grabs, in her own way, fragments of reality.

So, she wanders through the whisper-lighted streets
by taking pictures and immortalizing shapes,
searching for a dead-end for finding a living door,
a door, which she may be able to preserve,
to his sorrow-sealed soul.

The chimera of
yours, the only unextinct
creature in your bleak

bestiary; that's
what I really am:
formed from one-half love

and one-half throe by
you. But I recognized my
borders by learning

your limits for I
wish to forge my own path out
from your false mythology.

Your steps are taking
away from here just like the
arteries carry

the blood away from
the heart and now on you are
going to be not

miles but lives away
from me; dimensions ahead
hidden in your cloud fortress.

I am still sleeping with your spectral body
sharing my bed with your incorporeal consciousness.
Even now can recall the taste of your dreams
for enfolding myself with your astral vestige.

I am like air yet earthbound because of you
in my turning, I no longer can return to the highest deep.

Your rising was my fall
for my end became your beginning.
Crying these tears of mirror shards
the next page in the book of reflections was turned.

And nothing left behind
but comforting the ghost.

Must confess something:
I realized that for now
I do not know the

time of need for you
have become too important,
too much loved. I'm not

afraid of you but
the possibility what
this feeling could do with me.

Uttering those words
out loud as if they 'd been just
discovered, you did
bring them into their knees like
a newfound land's conqueror.

There must be an algorithm for the Fate
in the A.I. of existence
and I am aware that
you want to encrypt it.
I wish I could have all the answers
you desperately seek.
But I don't.
Yet still, I can be your skeleton key
in this closed space
to open the doors
toward the unbeknown.
Because for learning by doing -
as Aristotle said at once -,
we could read ourselves into
the rules of staying
beneath the wrinkles of Time.

We can be constant variables.

Your genesis I
need: the very first words of
the story of me,

I yearn for you to
put me down into words and
say: "Shall we begin?"

Love is like the dark
matter: it holds together
the universe, yet

mine was broken and
fallen into myriad
of subatomic

particles like the
ashen, shattered pieces of
a fractured mirror.

I am aware,
my love, that I need to go
on the journey of

mine, without  you. But
tell me, where to start; where to
take the very first

step into a new
life when I am even
incapable of

moving..? Even the
stars faded tonight, the moon
was blinded, the sky

is gone out choking
the love-red sun. Tell me who
am I suppose

to make it on my
own without your dark lightning;
without your black silken light.

Once I was a preserver
a wayfarer
a maker
but later
you turned me into a useless stargazer
by losing the will of being your tracer
I ceded my kismet on becoming an engraver

I grew to be nothing but a moveless eraser

This heart of stone hides
a dream of a god whose voice
once was lost against

the terrific wind.
It became mutilated
then swallowed by the

cacophony of
silence. So, answerless he
slumbers now, yet still

ajar for long to
speak with a mortal one who
would dare to call thy true name.

born in sound, voice by
the call - the world begins with
the echo of you

Did you know that the night hides itself into your
hair? See, that's why it is so dark.
       Your shimmer, love, swallowed me
and I am melting on your tongue of time.
You are likewise the womb and the tomb of mine;
what else the difference but a letter.
Pour your sun inside me and let me rest in your blaze.
Place your moon upon my very heart and see how
I become one with your nightshade.
      My fate is a delicate line
                in the corner of the eyes of yours.
You water and make it bloom with the tears of joy,
drawing the constellation of stars on your very face.
       You are all fair, my love; there is no spot in you.

This game was on
right before we met.
This game was on
right before we were even born.

No one has ever said that
playing by the devil's bible is easy
and, to tell the truth,
I have never fancied gambling.

But this time I was called to act
by the summoning, and though
the price was never so high
like this before
I take the offer on losing everything
I have ever had.

Because sitting at this table
right here in front of you,
streamed by Acorns, Bells, and Leaves,
threatened Over-n-Under by the Knave,
I must defeat you by my own Heart
before the King itself slaughters me
by the hand of the Deuce.

We live in an era
when you confess to someone
that he is the one,
he will just stare blankly at you
and say: Oh, I see.
Well, there are many Ones.

"How long is now?" - you
asked and I was aware that
there is no after

after this we have
already reached the end; the
end of our very

beginning. So, it
is on us now whether to
dare to step one step

further into the
livelong midst ere we happen
to lose the track of our time.

By closing my eyes
to the outer world, you taught
me how to create,

then see myself from
the inside for your lesson
was about giving

the very eyes of
yours. Now let me give my own
heart to you, thus, by

it you will able
to love yourself just as I
love you from the beginning.

I am in love with your reflection,
the one you refuse to see,
I am yearning to hear your song,
the one your voice deny singing.
My well-known stranger,
my learned unbeknown;
dying to accept - living in denial.
A dream
which is fated to remain
a fantasy.

It's a far cry from
those days that'd cry out for a
cry off in full cry.

On the sky's hummock
she is like a ziggurat;
a gardener of

stars who takes care of
their shining watching over
their sparkling glimpses.

My only hope that
maybe she intend to look
after our little

and unfortunate
star too. The dim one under
whom our love was born to beam.

You find me within
the interim for I will
be recognized as

the final. Though the
distance is my shelter, I
am near at hand;

on my way just to
get in yours. Reflect me; see
what is hiding your beneath.

Through the sea of flames
I pursue to fulfill this
shadow quest of mine,

governing my ark
recklessly against the winds
of mauling doubts, toward you.