sleeping next to you...
(how do i put it?)
is the meaning of absolute bliss.
like that taste of perfect lemonade
on a sizzling summer day.
in a state of semi-consciousness
turning, to find you next to me
with a simple sigh
i smile.
listen to your breathing
feel your chest slowly rise and fall.
i trace my fingers over your face
hoping they will be forever remembered.

if i could have one wish come true
i would wish to sleep next to you every night
with the sound of our silence
be my soundtrack.

I wish if I was a breeze,
I could have made you feel my presence.

I wish if I was a bird,
I could have flown and sat next to you.

I wish if I was a dew drop,
I could have fallen on you with love.

I wish if I was a rainbow,
I could have brought colours to your life.

I wish if I was your favourite book,
I could have always been in your eyesight.

I wish if I was your lovely pen,
I could have been in your hands.

I wish if I was your pillow,
I could have lulled you whole night.

I wish if I was a wave,
I could have tingled your feet.

I wish if I was in your heart,
I could have felt more secure.

let me
hear your beating heart
one last time

let me
see your brown eyes
one last time

let me
touch your tough arms
one last time

before
the daylight comes

It doesn’t matter what I think
My head driven into water
I want memories to sink

My angel wings clipped
Forced into a participation
It was draconian experimentation

He is the wretched force
An intimidate inclination
He wants to find the source
Of ultimate liberation

Someone should invent
mechanisms for opening and closing
the best parts of ourselves
so we don't have any destructive contraptions
interfering anymore.

We could also really use
subtle reminders to
make eye contact with ourselves in mirrors
and dance to the sound of our own heartbeats
at times when we can't hear the music.

The first time you knew me, I was wearing a purple silk robe. To this day, you call it a kimono and think I'm so comfortably foreign. I was always yours, and yet never yours. Our futures were mapped out on the backs of our hands, and we watched our freckles trek highways up our shoulders and down our spines, collecting like pools of sweat, the kind that I missed the night I sent you back to your friends. I let you go, and still clung to you. I was a shirt you pulled from the dryer too soon. Your skin held me close, and let me dry, leaving an itchy tight patch on you. I am sorry for never scratching that itch until your skin bled. I should've let my nails dig in until your nerves were dead to my touch, until you couldn't feel anything. Then you would slowly scrape your scabs up, noting the change in shape and texture, until they formed circuits. They would shoot like bamboo up your veins and reconnect your brain to your skin and leave behind no trace of me. You always deserved better.

She was the kind of girl
Worth dancing with
     In the middle of the living room
To the music
Of late night television.

She was the kind of girl
Who made the sky dizzy
     Whenever it looked down at her
Because she was
More vast than the sea.

She was the kind of girl
You wanted to kiss
     In each and every snow drift
Because her lips
Were warmer than any jacket.

She was the kind of girl
Who held you at night
     And whose arms lingered
Because when she was gone
You still felt her around you.

She was the kind of girl
People drag themselves
     From their beds and walk to work
Because they needed to care
For a necessity like her.

She was the kind of girl
Who made you trip over
     Words you wished were nearly as lovely as her,
Because she was the embodiment
Of all you ever wanted to say

To swoon the stars and put the moon in your back pocket.