we get dressed before the dying embers of fire
the air is plugged with a deadly silence
empty bottles lay scattered amidst an endless mess of sweat and sheets
the seconds pass with an intense touch of tender bittersweet
your kitchen floor is cold and i collapse in a heap of endless longing
of your lips on my hips, of your blinding touch in an explosion of mindless ecstasy

you know, i keep having this dream.
in it, you are smoking your
last cigarette. in silence,
you watch the crumbling of ash.
all the time, i had my eyes on
you. so fragile and thin.
like second-hand smoke,
i breathe you in.

you know, i keep having this dream.
in it, darkness enshroud and we
share a kiss. not then, but
i realise it now;
the smouldering smell of wildfire
burning, my breath when our lips touch.
like a phoenix rising from the ashes,
subterranean love on fire.

you know, i keep having this dream.
in it, you stand quietly in front of a
drawer full of clogged words.
lifting your hands as if in prayer,
you spit out heartfelt words that
never stood the test of time.
i hold your hand and you whisper in
my ear:

it was only a dream.
just like you.

or the time you said hello
after years of disappearance
& how i sat to
catch a breath;

or when i leaned in for a
kiss and you replied with
your eyes closed, lips apart
vaporising walls of my soul;

or the night we played
truth or dare
& you downed shots when i asked
who'd you love - she or me.

i dyed my hair a shade of blue last winter.
fiery blue passion no one understood.
a mere representation of solemn,
of my heart's sullen cry.

like the bombay sapphire
my bartender tossed each night.
shots after shots
spiralling endlessly in earnest.

lingering down the esophageus,
star bursting into microscopic galaxies.
scorching every touch.
burning off every trace of your memory.

spring passed,
and now summer has entered.
the blue has faded.
time weeds out the good and the bad of it all.

memories no longer appear as a comic strip line.
but juts out like an eyesore,
like dark clouds in a clear blue sky.
as if indecisive, only ever wanting the best of both worlds.

blue stains are unforgivable,
though in time all blurs and gets forgettable.
there is no reason for bitter.
though you carry as a blanket for its comfort.

when summer slips by, and
you're holding the fort once more for the bitter cold nights.
the blue shines bright and this time
you embrace it like a starry night sky.

there was the quickened pace
my feet and my heart
i knew not the difference
both were intertwined as one

lips slightly apart, irregular breathing
as time shortened our distance
eyes sparkling with anticipation
my thoughts only on one

and at that colliding of a second
if there were lights it was all on us
though hands shaking, grips firm
at that moment, both connected as one

no denying this attraction
burst out of nowhere
as if silently waiting all along
a million other people, but to me he's the one

i love the rain it reminds me of you,
every droplet a tender touch
at times, a storm or two
terrifying passion
you used to call us
lovers
we were always more than mere
man and woman

it keeps raining in these part of town
raindrops falling causing
ripples on the ground
like my thoughts just going
round and round
"repetitive motion"
you sometimes whispered
my eyes drawn to you but
yours always to the ground

if irises are round
trace our line of sight in
perpendicular motions
i will be waiting in between
those moments your vision clears
anticipating the silent drop when
our eyes meet
turning two points into one

I will struggle for a very long time.
I will hold on to him,
hoping that in time my love for him will
make him see.

My friends will probably tell me to break up,
and I will know they are right.
Which is why I will struggle.
Because the mind and heart cannot
come to an agreement.

My advice for you will be to
think through properly. Ultimately, we are talking
about your future, your marriage.
You may now be together, but who's to say
what will happen in the future.

Will you be crying every night as
a man you love sleeps silently,
distance so close but yet you
have never felt so far away from him?

Take your time to decide.
Whether you choose to continue with this relationship,
or realise it's time to put it all to a stop.
Make your decision, and don't look back on it.

Doesn't matter how long you need to take
though the longer you withhold your decision,
the heavier the burden and struggles get.

No matter what you choose, no one can fault you.
And neither should you fault yourself.
We are all entitled to our choices in life,
be it good or bad. It is our life.

I will support you in your decision,
and I believe so will your parents.
You're never alone, you're very well-loved.

he crept in stealthily
like the first chill wind on a hot
summers morning
beads of sweat knead deep into
my furrows, if that was love
it was the last thing i'd expect

holding my heart in his hands
the coil of fingers trace colour into
every breath, inh-ale, exh-ale, inh-ale;
if rainbows had a name before
we existed, it would have been his
ale, pale blue ale

there is a culture in Tokyo
where men collectively dress and
suit.it.up.
beneath the glamour lies a vast
arctic tundra
ale smiles, my heart blushes

light envelopes as i open my eyes on
the plane bound for goodbye
my heart, a locomotion
derailed with its wreckage left behind
the comforting sounds of solitude
stung my ears with such fortitude
ja mata ne

that was the colour i recall
the night he said goodbye
wine glass swirling
arms lifted but its contents never
touched his mouth

that was the colour i remember
the moment i saw
his hand on her hips
matching curl on their lips
matching bands on both left ring fingers

that was also the colour i last cherished
blade to soaked skin,
dilated blood vessels
a temptress taking flight, her heart a broken intoxication

i love the rain it reminds me of you
every droplet a tender touch
at times, a storm or two
terrifying passion
you used to call us
lovers
we were always more than mere
man and woman

it keeps raining in these parts of town
raindrops falling causing
ripples on the ground
like my thoughts just going
round and round
"repetitive motion"
you sometimes whispered
my eyes drawn to you but
yours always to the ground

if irises are round
trace our line of sight in
perpendicular motions
i will be waiting in between
those moments your vision clears
anticipating the silent drop when
our eyes meet
turning two points into one

you are the architect to your mind
the sculpture of your body
the painter for your emotions
the writer in your stories.

the world at your fingertips
trace high up to the sky
connecting stars into constellations
a reflection of your life.

the world is a canvas
an ocean bed full of mysteries,
so built up your collection
works of art like a
masterpiece.

a chaos world we live in
repeated shattering of our
perfectly constructed lives
to mould us,
like waves
battering against rocks.
evolution they call it.
what a mess we become
at times. a work of art,
i reckon.
your beauty; breathtaking
our existence; astral

there are sunken cities
off the pacific ocean.
places we never heard of,
people we will never come to know.
an entire island,
swallowed into depths of darkness;
stuck in time forever like a broken clock
with only one face for the world.
if she were an island,
she would have been atlantis.
her life a compilation of fiction and hypothesis.
archaeologist have searched,
many in vain, for civilisation,
for prevailing proof of her existence.
like any of this all would matter.
because believe me when i say
that i have spent four years
submerged in the atlantic ocean
and the only thing i found
is that there is
no greater distance than
loving figments of her
ghostly shadow.

in september i learnt
that the dead lives
among the living but not all
sees

when i was fifteen i once played
the ouija board
i said goodbye but
the spirit never left

my mother never understood my
incessant insomnia
she never saw the dreams
of strangers in my bed

she does not hear the voices
of people long gone
yearning to be heard
once more

it is said that in order
to live
you must first learn the
meaning of death

every night i made my bed out of
suicide notes and
broken bones and
overdosed cough mixtures

i once sat on the windowsill
a friend i once called a friend
helped me tight
while i cried

a love i cannot love told me
not to wake up and
regret
it would be too late by then

this is what i learnt in september
that some of us die in the
suffocation of the
overnight casket

and if i forget to come home
one night
i hope you read the signs clearly
this time

in geography we learnt that there are
plates under us
drifting in underlying motion
it is said that when collided
brings with it an
ecstasy of disasters
i liken to how i feel at seven pm
on the train home
from work
practice balancing on metal plates
as faded sceneries
unwind before my very eyes
the occasional crash into strangers
brings with it a divergent of
careless intimacy
nothing stays long enough for a smile
just floating heads
a flurry in their tragic minds

i made a list of things
worth living for
and it came up to be
a hundred and
i made a list of things
worth dying for
and it read:
Him.
on my fourteenth birthday i
came home crying
'cause i'd only
received five presents
and remember mother
how you said:
quality over quantity
any day.
oh mother, tell me what is
one hundred then,
as compared to that
one.