I was always curious about love,
But it was my caution I couldn't get rid of,
After all, curiosity killed the cat,
And I rather leave my head and heart intact,
But then you came skipping along,
Hated that my soul burst into a Bollywood song,
Stifling the feelings just didn't seem right...  
So, yeah, how about a date Friday night?

believe me
i’m not dark
actually, I’m quite frothy

like foam that teases your lips
when you take the first sip of coffee

or the bubbles that catch your eye
when a nymph child plays

ivory keys that your fingers caress
as you make music out of me

or the decadent glimmering of a crystal
that creates kaleidoscopes in the sunshine

i’d melt the icing on a cinnamon roll
and lick it off your nose

or say your brows are caterpillars
and giggle myself silly

i’ll tickle your kneecaps
and poke your sides until you collapse

the child coalesced with the woman
the medical student coalesced with the artist.

Beautiful hybrids.

Of all the things I truly must be
a sad but perky Poet
defines me primarily.

I'm happy, I'm sad,
don't know which way is up.
I walk through darkness,
with a light-filled cup.

They had once been in their prime
Now littered across the newborn grass
Remnants of flowers, which had once been
Vivacious. Pink candour.
Of those that bloom, they're on top
No worries, swaying to the gentle jazz

With a gust of wind flies off a blossom
Sails through the wind like a blazing ship
The candour vivid, its last time ever
Lost in the moment of the infinite music
Until it hits the ground.

Rumpled, crumpled. Oh narcissistic irony
Those on top still lost,
The hypnosis of that fast life.
It slowly sinks through the blades.
They run deeper and deeper until it's
Limp.

Serendipitously someone comes along
Little Lucy perhaps
Pulls the ancient thing out of its pain and says
"Ah. It's beautiful."

He worked quite precariously
Plucking, unthreading, tearing
Until the sheer glimmer dimmed

The needle bobbed with rhythm
As he'd untwine multitudinous threads
And mercilessly string them along

Patterns so intricate yet so flawed
The carnal ambivalence stitched
In the lush red silk

Yet tailor beware
As your patterns removed the seams
Of a work so beautiful
That you left remorselessly
In tatters.

Had I know that yesterday
Was the last time
I’d have the chance to hold your hand
I’d never let go
I’d squeeze your carpal bones
So close that they’d snap
Built pressure bursting blood from your fingertips
Seeping onto my own skin
A subtly violent fusion
That would still hurt less
Than you walking away.