my mind meanders
as the night grows restless
reaching out with passionate fingers
that draw me out of my stupor
                                                  i’m twisted in their embrace
                                                  conflic­ted, astray in this maze
                                                  with unquenched desire they pry me open
an endless procession of memories -
set free from their anchors, they rise up
contorting themselves to the tunes of                       “Should I enter or not?” asks the labyrinth
“what if?” and  “ why not?”                                                           the maze gifts me dead-ends
demanding answers that cannot be given

                                                     an­ argument of the heart with itself
                                                     is not one that finds resolution
                                                    th­e decision is the destination

in the end they all await the Sun

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
  17.12.2012

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

Your smile makes my heart stop
and speed up
at the same time.
And even though you've
hurt me lots,
I know you're always mine.

The simple way
you say my name.
Your pretty light brown eyes.
I find it's never hard to say
the "Love"s, the "You"s, the "I"s.

And when you wrap
me in your arms
and hold on to me
tight,
I hope you'll never let me go,
I'd stay there,
day and night.

Your warmth,
Your touch,
Your comfort.
Your stories and
Your stares.
Your kisses,
Hugs, and
Gestures,
Your "I'll always be there"s.

You said to list
the reasons why
I love you
like I do,
but babe, I've tried
to tell you,
I love you cuz you're **You

i want to show you my scars. all of them.
and tell you the story.
i have many, i know. and probably 50 more will be added.
the ones blossoming on my shins & knees,
that's what happens when you're active in summer.
the one under my bottom lip,
i was young and my slumber met a sharp ended edge.
the ones on my hands,
let's just say the oven isn't my good friend.
and the other scars...
those are the scary stories.
those are the ones i lock away.
the ones on my stomach, my wrist, my arms.
those scars hold no stories, only nightmares.
those scars were no accidents, only battles.
i lie, most of the time, when questioned.
but you are not judgmental.
these scars, i know you could never fully understand.
but if i share my story,
if i tell you the secret beneath the scare tissue,
can you at least try?

i wouldn't say love,
would pull you by the backs of biceps,
make you body-oriented: body toward
another body, me. and click-clack elbows
loosely toward you, my joints on string
for you, joints like a puppet for your pull.
you always tightened like a steady wring,
i dripped like a rag of kerosene
and yes, there was ignition, and yes,
you ignited me. it's good to burn
a steady burn flesh-wise, good to be
a fire and a flame. good still to turn
to ash beside, if the arsonist remains.

How juicy your words taste
sliding down my tongue to my thirsty throat;
tasting of freshly picked apples
squeezed into sunny warm cider-
seeping into my blood stream
and bringing me back to the fall where
the sunset leaves fall across my skin
and your voice sings with the crunch of the leaves.

I float in a sea of your words
thrashing against my skin
but I embrace every single
whispered black letter and
swallow the bitter ink,
so my lungs become too bloated
for me to hover in the foam so that I
sink and I find your cheek to kiss.

Come dance with me between the seaweed,
with sand wedged between our toes
I’ll hook on to your Cs intertwine
with Ls, slip behind Bs and lay in
the Ys when the dance is done--
you would have kissed the lids
of my eyes, slipped into my soul
and transformed me to you
your words are my thoughts and dreams
of autumn leaves and breezy waves.

I heard all your screams
I listened to your stories
I rolled with the struggles
Yet here you are
Refusing to acknowledge my existence
Depressed as I am
And you make my loneliness
Even stronger every minute of the day
So here is a letter
To mark my suicide
That your selfish actions led to
I called several people
But it's late in the night
Phones are off
Sound asleep
As I race through thoughts
Through memories
Hoping one of them could save me
But I just lie here
Blade sharp
Bottle half empty
Nuse tied tight
Pistol loaded
All I'm waiting for is a reply
A letter back
That someone will listen
But that could be ages from now
Time I don't have
Dreams I will never achieve
So I bid you farewell
As I try and end this hell
To live in a world where
I truly am loved and never ignored
Because I will be the only face
In the darkness of death
So good night
Sweet dreams
Live happily without me
          
           Sincerly,
               Robert Guerrero
               12-12-12

Hood Canal

I couldn't see, but water
reflecting, it danced from stars of sun
Black cormorant dove under stars and pearls of sea
silvery fished his netted beak

A small boat left untied to float, I rowed
weaving cat tail reeds, long through water weeds
Paddles cut my diamond day - sparkling
jewel of soul swayed, prayed to dive me deeper

Sandy shores mollusk strewn
rippled shells covered shimmering blue
Oysters bubbled shallows breathing
seagull smiled watchful scheming

Beach fire to warm the night
and rock the dusky sun to sleep
the coming moon between trees
dark night, the stars to weep

Fumbling fingers over premature *******
The hardships of new men
Buttons and clasps, too many to handle
All but means to an end

She fakes smile as, he peels off her shirt
He feels the jump from down below
As she pushes down her skirt
So he rises to the occasion

Her cheeks redden as the curtain falls
Laying back, sweet kisses rain down
A moment so pure when nature calls
Cries of pain or pleasure?

Moment frozen in eternal time
His eyes on hers. Reassuring her
That their love is not a crime
She feigns a smile as he holds her close

The end is near, for him at least
She bites her lip as he confides n her
His face a hilarious picture of a beast
Falling out of her, they dress quietly

The love in hiding, lust under the bed
She lays there a second longer
He smacks the sheets playfully, cheeks turning red
Caught in a memory of when she felt lust for the first time