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Dec 2023 · 60
Untitled
Eriko Dec 2023
The nights freezing
The sky an eternal blackness
Like a reflection of obsidian
The cosmos twinkle and glow

Trees yawning on the horizon
Snow drifting, spraying
The wind whipping my face
Winter nights mysterious and quiet

A quietness that hugs me
Dec 2023 · 184
Untitled
Eriko Dec 2023
The light faint, damp
In the dusty darkness
An eternal twilight
Trapped, feeling lost
Feeling placated
A coffin
I must
Escape
Work
May 2023 · 74
Untitled
Eriko May 2023
what is this
the need to scrub the suds
off of time

the pull to dust off
buried dreams of starships
and gusto

a gusto that
sounded a little like
I‘ll live

I don‘t know
what this is,
purpose?

how does it exist
outside of time?
untouched by money?

how do I know
what it is
what it says?
Apr 2023 · 158
Fists of sand
Eriko Apr 2023
A fist full of sand
Soggy, foaming from the cold sea
And glass and shells like deposits of gemstones
I sculpt something like a home

The salty air whistles and bellow
The sun solidifies
The moon reveals the llulabys
Cooing in nothingness

The tide remolds, reshapes
I put my body between my home and the sea
I dig a trench, I fortify
Yet the water is frigid

My home erodes

And so it goes
I push sand only for
The tide to take the gems away
But one day

The sea left a gift
In its foam
Apr 2023 · 141
Return
Eriko Apr 2023
Who are you
I almost kept the door firmly shut
And I kept it barely ajar
And you barged through the open window

Ha, so clever

Who are you
My love?
I ask this because I recognize who I am

The degradation fled
When you kissed my knuckles
And now I dream

Of your return
You know, love or whatever
Apr 2023 · 81
Spring stupor
Eriko Apr 2023
A hazy spring nap
The golden sunlight filtering
The dried herbs burning

My eyes heavy
Breathing slow like molasses
Dashes of honey green

A stupor taking hold over me
A stillness that buffers
The cruelty of the outside
Jul 2022 · 274
forever
Eriko Jul 2022
people come in and out
of my life

like a shower of sparks

what is erased?

what leaves a brilliant streak?

forever
Jun 2022 · 72
a web
Eriko Jun 2022
a paragraph of words
a herd of syllables
in my throat

I purse my lips
to keep it all contained

laced with a wading fear
with a love that’s like warmth
cupped in soft hands
and an indignation
reflective as polished stone

I am a dewdrop
twinkling in the sunlight
of a spider’s web

I am a question
held prisoner
to the whims of time
Jun 2022 · 57
Succumbing
Eriko Jun 2022
i have succumbed
nothing but to
the clink of ice in glass

or the violets in
the whistling wind

or the sprinkle of salt
on an open wound
Jun 2022 · 223
corner folds
Eriko Jun 2022
what are memories
but treasure chests
of pain

or hard candy
that slowly melts away
and leaves your tongue blue

or a phantom
that creeps
from door to door

peeking through some,
locking after a visit
lingering in the shadows

memories travel like a whisper
a refraction of light
and swirling dust bunnies

what are memories
but a corner fold
of a page
Jun 2022 · 72
may
Eriko Jun 2022
may
a quiet dance
a flirtation
between here and there,
red and blue
a tango fluttering
out from grasp of time

toes sink into grass,
shoulders bare the
blazing, scouring sun
the wind like
a breathing trinket
of melody,

a chase meant
to be without
an end
Jun 2022 · 55
condensing
Eriko Jun 2022
a bullet train plummeting
through my head,
one ear and out
the other

knees weak and shaky
i cover my ears
and they hurt
i cover my mouth
my breath condenses

a rainy night, fractured
spidery network of lightning
dancing behind the clouds
and then something falls.

is this courage or stupidity, i think
funny how they are
two sides of the
same coin
Jun 2022 · 91
Sink
Eriko Jun 2022
i’m tired
let me sink
into the incandescent
murmur of
the ocean

into the
cool mists
of stoic
mountains

into the folds
of a warm,
yellow light

this little
pocket of stillness,
let me sink into it

before i have to
face the gravel
and sirens
and stickiness
once more
Jun 2022 · 86
Untitled
Eriko Jun 2022
the dappled sunlight ricochets,
the adrenaline tunnels,
pools, spilling over
the brim

stop, a suffocating grip
far ahead

hurry before you lose sight
of your hands,
right in front of your eyes

turn around, stall
stay where it’s golden
and the breeze sings

far away
May 2022 · 66
tall grass
Eriko May 2022
a lone bird
peeking through the
tall grass
it can’t see more
than a few feet
just the thick green
and beetles
a creeping a panic
a cagey feeling
can’t catch it’s breath
the bird tries to
flee to the skies
cawing desperately
and the sunlight
doesn’t exactly touch
the ground and
is this what
life
is
Apr 2022 · 85
sculptures and wishes
Eriko Apr 2022
the heavy grey slate
a restless, whipping sky

the sea rustles,
rocking like an animal caught
in a metal cage

the air smells like salt
and a blown out candle

the water a prickly cold
a foamy blanket that
sends jolts of warmth

to numbed cheeks

a wish whispered alone
for no ears to hear

a handful of shattered sea shells
beautiful in their own right
they're fragmented homes

and abandoned pieces of art

the words are whisked away
by the ferocious wind

only to find a new refuge
in the creases of these

abandoned sculptures
of the sea
Apr 2022 · 190
on being mangled
Eriko Apr 2022
maybe two people
can collide
their gazes mangled together
hair sloppy and
their feet
tripping over
themselves

another world created
plates heavy and blankets twisted
the moon shines in their eyes
and when they lose each other
in the still of the night

the morn cracks
and the yellow yolk breaks
they collide once more with a sigh,
never truly lost
and begin a metamorphosis  anew
Apr 2022 · 66
Garage
Eriko Apr 2022
the echoes skitter across
grey concrete walls,  
massive in sound
yet fleeting, a rabbit skittering
and evasive from sight

a gross palace made of concrete
sticky chewing gum and
fluorescent lighting,
oily squeal of tires
and a dizzying array of
thoroughfares

it’s a trick, it’s an illusion
this monstrous structure
to rotate up and down
up and down
up down up down
Apr 2022 · 48
On the Road
Eriko Apr 2022
the drawn out road
carves through the hillside
like a spoon

a landscape molded
by reduction,
impressions of

color and shape,
the shadows and cries
of sunlight

oh how the sky molds
into the nooks and crannies
how the road careens

and the hours take flight

as the sky sinks into slumber
the sun tucks itself in the crescent hills
and deep oranges speckle the black expanse

like stars set ablaze
Apr 2022 · 69
Concert
Eriko Apr 2022
a night enthralled
with a rhythmic banter
clashing and pulverizing
a sound scape ricocheting
as the lights glow like a mischievous smile

the dark blanket of night filling
the empty spaces,
hand in hand the frigid air and
cracked concrete
crackle, sigh, bellow

a cat peeking around the street corner
a sticky glass of drink
the shaking of limbs and teeth
this night the house
collide with sound
Nov 2018 · 163
Untitled
Eriko Nov 2018
My love
All I ever
Wished for is
To be held
And to be never
Let go
How wrong
Of me,
Love, let me go
I have to fly
I have to roam
But treat me right
Love with softness
And passion
and I promise
To return to you
With a beak full
Of flowers and melodies
Which sing of
The moon
Nov 2018 · 139
Scales of a City
Eriko Nov 2018
The moon cradled in its throne
The leaves scatter and crackle
Like the bite of winter’s reprise
Alas, light twinkling
Rectangular scores of color
~oranges and yellows,
Faint and rich
The city is an ocean of light
Alive and swimming
Like the scales of a
Glittering fish
Nov 2018 · 318
Untitled
Eriko Nov 2018
Your face
Pressed to
The palm of
My hand
And I caught
Your smile
In my grasp
Sep 2018 · 217
Untitled
Eriko Sep 2018
Basking in the sun
Picking mint leaves
My cheeks flushed
Aug 2018 · 202
to carve
Eriko Aug 2018
a field of long grass
rolling and folding,
like scoops of butter
as the descending sun
kissed the swaying stalks
into golden wheat,
and the sweet summer breath
sighed with relief,
the sky a glowing sea
and clouds of dust
puff underneath my feet
as the dirt path
meanders aimlessly
through the fields,
here, in this small
corner of the world,
is carved out for
a breath
to simply
be
Aug 2018 · 467
Reach
Eriko Aug 2018
That moment when
The shards of the sun
Drift like embers
And catch fire,
Igniting the earth
With its brilliance,
Momentarily pulling
Those who are buried
Out of their trance
Aug 2018 · 370
Scabs
Eriko Aug 2018
For those
Who are healing,  
Don’t pick
At the scabs
That’s how scars are formed
Aug 2018 · 183
a painting
Eriko Aug 2018
there are 7 billion souls
and every shade of love
Aug 2018 · 176
those years and now
Eriko Aug 2018
mother, don't you know
I feel so fortunate
to snuggle next to you
like a child,
like those years
of sticky lollipops
and scraped knees,
of hiding in hampers
and dashes across fields of grass
to have no fear
of being pushed away,
I am still very much
that little girl
Aug 2018 · 199
little brother
Eriko Aug 2018
the first taste of autumn,
its chilliness and orange glow
gently sweeping the change of seasons

a brother and sister
chatting with plates of food
ham-cheese croissants and cherry tomatoes

the brother chuckles,
cheeks plump with youth
eyes yet unfazed from growing up

his tiny body unburdened
he's wearing his father's sandals
and they are ten times his size

we fill the waning dusk with banter
I scruff his hair like I always do
what kind of man would he become?
Aug 2018 · 154
salves
Eriko Aug 2018
the comfort of a deep-seated sofa
scruffy and a dark green
sink into its comfort,
the air stale and chilly
a stack of books
silence from the mind
is a salve
a moment to be
without being scathed
from reality
books
Aug 2018 · 129
a drive
Eriko Aug 2018
the engine startles, the headlights flicker on
the soft spatter of rain a murmuring lullaby

the ceaseless roll of pavement
getting ****** underneath

the winds brush in a scatter of melodies
picking stray locks of hair

the descending sun a ball of scorched orange
a cigarette bud in a whirl of ash and smoke

music tumbling from the radio
filling the empty leather seats

no other headlight permeate the reflections
just pavement and trees and churning sky

outstretch an arm and cradle the twilight
hum sweetly in lone companionship
Aug 2018 · 444
Untitled
Eriko Aug 2018
There are those who
Share their light and cheerfulness
By dancing,
Soaring with an array of
Breathless color
And collecting totems
As they speed life with
A spiraling grace
And fight

There are those who are proud
And rooted
A heart tall and growing
Like a great tree
Enduring the seasons
With such strength
Offering nurture
And gift

And there is everyone
In between
Aug 2018 · 127
Untitled
Eriko Aug 2018
The warmth shared
Between two souls
Is just learning
How to dance
Together
Aug 2018 · 138
Untitled
Eriko Aug 2018
my mind
a pink dawn
my heart
a rippling stream
my soul
in reminisce
Aug 2018 · 223
rekindle
Eriko Aug 2018
my love
my bones
my eyes
and teeth
and skin
and feet
a hearth
in the pit of my stomach
have built
a new
home
Aug 2018 · 667
soup
Eriko Aug 2018
drink in light
as if sipping soup
spoonful after each
steaming spoonful,
the smell of herbs fill the nose
and tastes rich on the tongue
on a cold, cold night
where you can barely
hold your rattling,
aching bones
drink in the good
like soup
Aug 2018 · 240
seizing
Eriko Aug 2018
welcome back,
my sweetness
spoke my hair
sighed my eyes
as I eased, climbed back
into the familiarity of my skin
I have missed you
glanced my hips
battered my eyes
touched my lips
you are home, back
to you now
my bones smiled
my muscles cradled
my soreness slowly ceased
and I breathed
Aug 2018 · 133
Pocketed
Eriko Aug 2018
At a very young age
I realized I was pocketed,
Rendered with vacancies
In these pockets, I’ve filled
With light—with companionship,
With family, with art and color
And adventures and foolishness
And regrets and difficulty
And confusion and dreams
And a whole lot of life
Aug 2018 · 257
clarity
Eriko Aug 2018
breathe in,
breathe out
and the trees will remain
the bright, glowing sky
of sheer turbulence
and graceful beauty
setting ablaze
to the world underneath
will greet, twice, each morn
and every descent.
the birds will compose
and fill the air with streaking chirps
of soft lavenders and warm oranges
shadows will skip and tumble,
and I can fall into softness
and into peace
knowing all I
have to do
is to
be
Aug 2018 · 126
note to self
Eriko Aug 2018
do not lead
a life which
cannot sustain
your happiness
Jul 2018 · 128
Untitled
Eriko Jul 2018
all I want
is to be held
and not to be
let go
but that's asking
for the world
and that's too much
to ask for
Jul 2018 · 124
Untitled
Eriko Jul 2018
with such a big heart
I keep myself up
with such a big heart
it's own weight
can drown me
Jul 2018 · 110
Untitled
Eriko Jul 2018
I am human.
I stumble
I am a kaleidoscope of hues
a tidal wave of feeling
a star
a speck
a glimpse
I walk, no,
more like leap with bubbling mirth
and collide with frightening, terrifying speed
I am intertwined, inexplicably,
I hope
I dream
I am
Jul 2018 · 107
Untitled
Eriko Jul 2018
two swim in a deep, blue sea
with bare feet
two hands open
two eyes closed shut
and an open
heart
it can hurt
I will carry wounds
it can be utter brilliance
I will be free
Jul 2018 · 163
to build
Eriko Jul 2018
to build a palace
to greet the ghosts
which stalk the moonlit halls
to fill the vases
with fragrance of roses
to unlock the bolts
which secluded a greeting, hello,
to spread the curtains open
as golden light spills
through the cavernous space
to allow the breeze pooled from the shore
strike conversation with the window panes
to strike the hearth with a bellowing fire
to fill the kitchen with warmth and chatter
to restore the hardwood floors to its past
chocolate-brown luster
to adorn the walls with paintings which sing and feel
to fill a room with books, books, and books
to sip on sweetness and joy
while overlooking a glittering lake
to feel the grass
cushion bare feet
to fall asleep without an ache in the chest

to build a palace
Jul 2018 · 133
Untitled
Eriko Jul 2018
The floating feeling
Surfing through the air
Thick with richness
Of a summer shine,
Pale yellows and greens
Which glow,
Dappled, bouncing light
Shadows and gurgling “hellos”
The sensation of flying
Through thickets of
Swaying trees singing
In unison
With the blue, cerulean water
Lavender springs
And bumps into laughter
Time speeds past
And the breath smells
Like sweet, sweet wine
Drunk off the music
The northern, brisk breeze
Combs through my hair
And I wished
I could stay
Forever
Jul 2018 · 145
Untitled
Eriko Jul 2018
Fold into those
Who cherish
Close to their hearts
Jul 2018 · 112
Toronto
Eriko Jul 2018
Tall sky scrapers with pale blue
And white exteriors
Catching the sun’s rays
With an array of glittering reflections
Like the scales of a fish
Shimmering with iridescent vigor
Low-ceiling bridges
Hubbub of human activity
Busy, commuting, engaged
In conversations as they
Zig zagged
Through the broken pavement
Dappled with sunlight
Jul 2018 · 155
Inside
Eriko Jul 2018
to fall into gentleness
to speak with a look
to sink with
a cosmic stillness
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