I let your hand
slip out of mine
you look at me
with wet cheeks
and pleading eyes
my heart aches
for years you
have been my
world and today
I'm letting them
take you away
go on, my love,
and don't look back
it is your first day
at school

Ben's father died
leaving his bride
with a pair of
the world's
brightest diamonds

An hour later
at the altar,
she saw the world
for the very first time

I bought
white lilies
your favourite
flowers
and I spent
two hours
to make a
wreath for
your head
smiling at
the thought
of you in a
wedding dress
I made this
wreath for
your head
but I lay
it on your
chest instead
I'm sorry, honey
I've been
quite insane
since your
death

I look at your wrist
as you sit with a *** of ink
to write.
I look at your wrist
as it wreathes beautiful
blue words
that may never make any
sense on their own
into free verse.
I look at your wrist
and I know
that in no longer
than a minute
I will have learnt this
verse by heart
as I have the previous
hundreds

Aunties and their daughters
pay a fortune to see the hills
burning fuel on roads
carved out of rock
they talk of the crisp mountain breeze
plunked down in AC cars
they point at tea gardens green
through thick sheets of tinted glass
"Look there, a lonely hut
amidst the greens the only hut,
what a lovely place to live!
Dressed in straw, bathed in sunlight,
ringed with only rows of tea.
Mother, I want a house like that,
oh what a lovely place to live!"

Somewhere inside the lonely hut
sat weeping a young lonely girl
cussing at the straw, at the
scathing sunlight and at the
endless rows of tea.
As she plucked leaves warily that noon,
a snake slithered to her feet
but only the trees heard her wail
only the breeze cupped her face.

Even at an age of eighteen
she would not admit
what a lovely place to live!
was her ugly lonely hut.

One of those expensive shops
its name in large red alphabet
that wink into the night
its glass doors with handprints
'OPEN', they say
but the face behind the counter
wishes against.
See, I ran into big money
and I will spend it all on chocolate,
enough chocolate for a month.
Grabbing a clinking metal basket
I sprint to the section
of my recent interest
tossing fifty bars of this, twenty blocks of that
some milk white, most coffee black
wrapped in shiny colours and labels
nutted, chipped, tempered, moulded.
I bought a truckload
with a great sense of pride
and contentment with which
loudly, I sighed.
I went home, bathed, dressed
and set the mood right
imbibing first the sweet crinkling of the foil,
I took a generous bite
tongue and nerves at work
but quite early I open my eyes
to the heap of shiny acquisitions
to my first big expense that
stood dimly magnificent
but this time rather
quiety, I sighed.
"I don't like chocolate"

Rainbows and infinity
they seemed to me bright and new
but as I grew old and out of fiction
I grew twined to you.
Painting dreams and possiblities,
letting my world surround you,
out of obsession and morbidity
I built universes around you.
You want me to paint your world
with promises of infinity
and I have nothing for you
but crimson geometry.
I've grown enough but not yet
out of this artworked skin
running out of space to pen stray lines,
I might just pull you in.
There is God, there is Lucifer
I choose to run into your arms
because I know you'll keep me safe
and not raise any alarms.
I can show you rainbows, yes,
just that they are all red
and my promises of infinity
no bigger than a needlehead.