I’ve been trying for several months
to write you a letter

Not for lack of dialogue;
I lacked the letters to simply compose.

A letter of love.

A letter of respite.

& yet, here, I write:

a letter of extrinsic motivations
&
a letter of intrinsic fulfillment

Tears of joy, tears of the beauty of love, tears of dreams and wishes for the future, tears for genuine hearts, tears for the bond that is needed for anything to be so powerful like this

I will whisper into a heart sewn shut.
My wishes and dreams so that this fabric
resonates with the ineffables of our love.
I'll hope that with every brush against stitched fabric, the wish is brought to life.

A small, simple wish: that the one I love,
whose claim is
my best,
most truest friend,
will feel that wave of intensely genuine passion.
vibrations channeled to a physical symbol
in hopes these wishes
deliberately
resound so that may she ever-
for the briefest of movements-
listen in to this seashell of a heart,
right in the uprush to experience:

a grandiosity the universe envies,
this galactic ocean of appreciation
born from a kaleidoscope of raindrops;
collected and formed from essences of you;

a soft, single wave to break upon her most delicate shore, feeling your toes in the tide.

I wage war for your embrace
I have said my peace
So shut me up with your darling kisses
Calm my storms fury upon your shores with your gentle touch
End my tornado of chaos and emotional turmoil with your warm breath
Riposte my fresh forged sword with your r&r; concern
Tame my lightning with your smooth body
Stop my earthquakes with your pristine soul
End my fires with the flame you have for me

There's times I wish I could rhyme
Write a poem and sing all the lines
I can't imagine a verse with more strength
Than the undulations from a varicose heart.
I have given you every thud in me.
I don't want you to think. This is anymore than a simple statement.
Something easy and needs not another repeat.
Maybe I can keep this neat:
Tell me your hopes and dreams
Your fears and secrets
I wanna hear your innermost, your deepests.
I should clarify. I don't want to hear.
I want to bear. I
want to bear upon your truths.
Maybe you can then attest, that I am here
for the rest of you,
we.
I don't strive to be the best
for just you and me.

I strengthen and climb
because what else is there to do with time?

Tell me your favorite of the virtues and sins
Tell me the worst of both
I want you to show
me your lock and key.
Because I am envy.
I am pride.
I am greed.
Oh, but I am not sloth and the other three?
Is this really
me
you are conversing with?

I am all these things, and I
have shed the past toxins off me.
I have never been one for anger.

I have been diligent
in honing my patience;
I've become a certain sort of chaste.

My dear, you see,
you took a bite right out of me.
An apple that was so sweet:
Innocent skin and a refreshing flesh.

A shame really,
What's left is my bitter core.
But before you throw me out.
You should know there's a little more.

Within there are locked, opaque,
not so empty shells.
There's a secret in them.
And maybe, I could let you know.
How to open those potential doors.

Harvest and protect in a sanctuary.
Care and nourish.
Be patient and see the potential.
Maybe, in a few weeks you'll see what they've formed.
Better yet, a few years, with proper TLC;
you'll see,
that out of the darkness grew
something beyond saccharine.

But dear, why tell me your deceits?
I already broke my seals,
and it's a beauty to be real.
So vulnerable and I see the light.
Oh no, not one of life.
But something worth following towards Thanatos.

Death of what we both thought had been me.
I am already reborn
from a recipe of grandeur.
Something more complex
than just a fruit from a tree.
Something with deep
established roots,
an unrelenting body,
with a grasp upon the skies.
I will forever ventilate and grow.
The end point from here
is no longer very clear.

I just know one thing:
speak to me,
let me hear
your inner sea

whether turmoil or calm,
I will always thirst for your endless waters.
to know where your waves crash,
to know the moon that pulls your soul,
to know the pulses that ruminate from your depths.

Your voice is the orchestra
I wish to listen to
while I chase the sky.

I need a vacation.

Maybe a trip to Italy.

I gotta revitalize.

Maybe, Pompeii.

I am feeling starved of my vim and vigor.
My words are lukewarm.

There is only one option:
rekindling my virility.

I could vivify myself vicariously:
the sensuality of the city's verve,
all the daily livings of people,
venerated in an intense blaze;
might make me vivacious again.

Input daily routine.
Output socially valued norms.

My vivid, vermillion passion
has been layered with ashes.

I am desperate for veracity.
Did my igneous, poetic life temper
to an obsidian verse?

The beat in my heart
has felt industrialized,
monotonous,
a steady assembly line of chaste gray;
a vexing variance of my vitals.
Revive me: my virtuosity
will ventilate me with
venereal voraciousness.

What is left to me,
a choice of perspective:
a plunge in to the devouring,
a dive in to the radiant;
both, a swim through a viscous sea of wildfire
in Mount Vesuvius.

I heard an uppy jingle behind me
and my long tired feet told me
they could make it to the street's song.
I glided past
clouds of sugar with a glimmer
in my eye,
pain forging with each stride.
Childhood was only a few moments behind.

With a tensing of lashes tight,
tired soles left
caramel kisses exploring
dense sweet air.

Thousands of fireflies synchronized together.
a tangible magic
flew through the energetic night.
I was hypnotized.

There was babies' laughter,
to my right,
and, to my left,
a group of seven year olds.

A blue ribbon strewn through the air
preventing eager children
from joining the dance
of man-made insects
on cars lacking drivers.

With a similar gaze of innocence,
I sat beside them with crossed legs.
Enchanted,
bewildered,
awed,
my heart sung with every song.

I saw a princess dawned
on a brilliance of blue,
her steps
graceful and light.
An unwavering smile strewn on her lips.

I was stung by fairy tale's
enchanted kiss.
And then I saw:
true beauty;
like a dove,
natural,
organic,
pure.

My one and only was smiling above.
I ushered for her to join me
lost in childhoods last glory.
She took my hand
and I stood with her,
I left with a world to be unfurled.

Ask a smoker to join you for a cigarette
One last one before a good nights rest
and the answer will inevitably be yes
Some people smoke, some drink, and some are all about the illicit
My chosen affliction is your love.

All good, well-versed, professional addict knows
rehab is for quitters
I want nothing more than to overdose
on the most powerful high:
your kisses and hugs.
To melt in to a puddle
with you,
there is nothing better

and nothing worse than withdrawal.
They say the first few days are terrible
I've been hooked on you, and all I can tell you is
please enable me.
I can feel the cold days approaching,
my nose runs and my stomach churns.
This is not going to be an easy turn
I can only hope,
I can only pray,
That a dose will be ready when I return on the 25th, my most awaited day

Soft gray waves crashing on the shore of us
and how serene do you ride the inconsistent night tide.
I am the observer, the witness to your grace, the recorder of time that bides
Slow, indigo transcends to a cool tranquil hue
The pacific shadows accent the stormless body beside me, and I wish to leave her undisturbed but I cannot be so standstill, despite such clarity and clearheadedness you bestow upon me.
Azure quickly washes away when warm gold blankets my affectionate one.
You tasked me to find an answer for why I cannot sleep:
you dawn sunrise and radiate natural regality that even the royal Sun
could not deny that you wear a crown of brilliance.

I miss my cargo green canvas backpack

Shredded with the mass of three
science textbooks: biology,
classical history, chemistry.

Not like backpack was meant for
several colossal three hundred page
hardcover books.

When it was empty,
it was light,
barely anything, tugging
on my shoulders;
but I insisted the friend come with me.

But I used backpack
for study,
drudgery,
play.
The linen wore
with every use.

It was my safety blanket,
under loose cloth
that contained
sacarine
orange glucose
tablets that I hoped
to never need

Inside the main large pocket,
there was a secret
zipper, within held
a pack of cigarettes,
an excuse,
to pardon myself into a realm of aloneness-
with little questions asked

There were strings that adjusted
its position on my back that
I would pull down,
using tension to fling myself
terminal to terminal

More than fifteen times, I lost
count, of my partner traversing
across oceans, gently cradling my laptop and phone-
my trusted links
with the outside world

Nervousness alleviated by the tassels
in my mouth, I bite and chew
on the cloth, but it holds steadfast
as I ponder how to approach
what's next,
the bittersweet coffee they fell into
rehydrates with my salivating mouth,
hungry for adventure
but a stomach empty
knots itself
anxious
for what's to come

My backpack weighs
on my shoulders, empty or full,
but it's trained my body
to carry the load thoughts in my
head bring upon me

But it yielded to what was to come,
the seams at the bottom gave out.
Backpack let me know: I needed to
learn to carry on
without reliance.

In a time,
when men were the superheroes,
born in an unconventional location,

a young girl, unknown to the future
she was destined to,
was born with a uniqueness
unfound in all people, a superpower
of empathy
and as she grew,

the world knew
she was imbued
as a living embodiment of legends:

Athena's wisdom,
beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite,
conversational skills that made Hermes envious,
and strength that Hercules
could never attain.

As she approached an age, when her parents would
trust her to be guardian,
her powers manifested.
This incredible child was now a woman.

With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge
poison that had afflicted a person,
even their hearts,
a God-given gift for those most sacred;
her correspondences exponentially developed,
able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature,
this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity.

Now, fully grown, this super-no-

This Wonder Woman had retired her duties
to save the world, not forsake it, but,
to train Wonder Girl, her daughter,
to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her.

She still looks up at the Higher Power
and realizes her duty to provide
the world justice is not over
but only beginning.

Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged
and was gifted
a bulletproof bracelet,
forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction
of all that is wise and healing.

Given to her to wear
so that nothing could halt her
as she continues
her fate to provide the world a humanity
that could only come from
an intrinsically true
dear heart.

I could never pen a string of words
Sentences
Idioms and general verbosity
that will be capture your beauty like a photo

I could never capture an angle
Lighting
Aperture and timing
that will capture your vivaciousness like a video

I could never record a motion
Expression
Presence and fluidity
that will project your nature
like being by your side

Don't lie to me.
No-no don't start with me.

I know what you did.

Denial, denial.

Oh,
you're getting tired
of this?

I'm sorry,
let me get you a coffee
cause we're just beginning.

It's not your fault?
How could I not believe you
and think you are lying
with those patiently-worn
innocent eyes and enchanting
words?
Not.

I can see it
clearly the panic
dilating pupils.

Scared now?
Yeah,
your massive pupils are
giving it all away.
You're clearly guilty.

Now fess up.
Make this easier on the both of us.
I don't wanna stand here
all day and have to berate you
when we both know you're just

gonna cave and admit to it.
You're the culprit.

What? You're saying that's a baseless accusation?
Ha! Tell that to the two way mirror!

They can see
your arms stretched out,
palms facing up
on the table like an image of Christ
pleading mercy.

Ha!
More like Mary Magdalene
begging for forgiveness
for her sins.
Classic pose,
pretending to be naïve.

Don't let those
deep
brown
eyes
swell,
those tears won't work on me.

I know
what you've done!
I saw
you do it!
I have
the proof!

What? You're demanding to see it?
Fine!
I'll take you
to the crime scene
but you're not to touch anything.
Cold steel cuffs oughtta keep you right.
Come with me,
keep up by my side.

Look at this mess!
How can you even want to see this, you psychopath?
Proud of your work, Huh?

There- on that wall- you can see
where it started.
The back of this man's head, looks like somehow
it was blown open from the back of his skull,

probably,
that's when his amygdala took the hit

and ended up in some mental odyssey
and just let you have your godforsaken way
with his disabled mind.

But then you had to keep going, didn't you?
You dragged him,
look at the bruises on shoulder blades, big and wide,
obviously had to wrap your arms around him,
squeezing his dead body.
You couldn't move someone
bigger than you so you used everything in you
and brought him to his knees
right
at this permanently stained couch.

This whole thing is ridden with evidence.

Oh, and now you say:
you didn't mean to?

This scene too graphic for you?

Maybe you should take a close look at how
you and his fingers are both broken!
What kind of altercation was that?
He already looked dead by then and you-
you held him laced to you after all
that damage?

The poor man was ******
from the moment his curious eyes saw
your sweetness.  

And, after all that,
you had the audacity
to bruise his neck?
Was that your intention to **** him,
make sure he died?
Or just torture him

till he begged
for sweet release,
sadist.
You must have given him just that

judging by how his skull is split
and not even in two,
but a complete desecration.
I mean look at the clear
weaving of neurons from hemisphere to hemisphere!

The thoughts
that he could musta had could only be
beyond manic
after this tryst.

I guess at that point
you felt bad enough for
the charmed fellow
you decided that was it,
to finish with him.

****, I don't know how you even did  this.
Rib cage broke and bones sticking straight out of his chest
and his heart gone?

You seem like those
succubus, straight from mythology.
The ones that seem
all innocent then eat the heart of a man.
I bet that's what you did.

I've heard on National Geographic that there were
people who believed
you could take a person's soul
and have it become part of you.
But to literally do such a thing?

Ugh, just
look.
Those cherubic eyes,
they're showing nothing
but contentment.
You're absolutely insane
for the satisfaction you have.

You need not say anything more.

Now, you have to live with yourself and your delusional beliefs.
At least,
in some twisted way,
that poor child will forever live on, even if it is for an eternity
captivated by you.

Yes, kiss my neck.
No, don't go back to my lips.

Give me more of your warm, wet air against my goosebump covered neck.
Bury your face into me.
More!
let me show you
just how much.

Yes!
right at the base of my neck where it meets my chest

Don't be shy,
I don't care if the world can see this tomorrow.
Actually, bruise me,
make sure
they all can see
it feels so
much better with that
assertion.  

I don't need to see anymore, just let me relish the bright blindness of eyes shut tight
I'll figure you out with my hands.

Yes! press your tongue against me in that seal you made with your lips.

And yes, the only time I want you to stop laying those kisses is for
an audible breath.

Better yet a small moan
when my hands slide under your rough denim and past your soft jagged ridges of lace,
a strong grip and squeeze of your ***.

That's it..
Now you're setting me off.
Yes, I want flesh on flesh.
No, I'm done with this hesitation
and your shirt.
I don't need mine either.
Actually, you can stop making my blood rush
through my neck.
Better only be for a moment though
while our hands grasp
for whatever part of our shirts to pull them off.

Yes, crawl further up me
let me feel your heating skin
against my blood boiled body.

No, don't just crawl-
straddle me
like this.

Actually, that sly lick against my earlobe made me groan.
Better yet
move your hips like- yes! just like that.

And Yes, we're still wearing too many clothes.
And yes, exactly, fix that problem.

No! I'm not done with those lips quite yet.
Exactly. That's the spot and don't you stop.

Actually-no-yes!-what was I saying?

Oh- that's right,
better yet,
turn around-but don't let go of me with your tongue and kiss-
my tongue also wants a taste. Y-yes..!

A train leaves a station with a speed of 60mph
It accelerates to above the speedometer's capability.

Trailing through,
a path of flames scorching
innocent tinder.

The conductor peaks in the mirror
and there is no sight
of damage;
only clear paths.

Did the train go off tracks as it sped?
Only he can know when it halts.

One pill, two pill
Orange pill, blue pill
White beads, pressed ecstasy and some ****.

Gluttony, greed,
My real sin is debauchery.
Gram of this, gram of that
marred my memories, myelin mortuary.
Skin, bones, but no fat
I'll eat gelatin capsules that can only subtract.

Artificial enthusiasm in Walgreens jars.
Decadence lost opulence to tolerance of bars.
Still I solicit any alter:
self-indulgence for Bacchanalian revival.
Hedonism's propensity,
mankind's perpetual denial-
but not for I,
the lotus eater
with the omniscient third-eye.

8450 plus one. But you are always ahead of me by 84.
But this doesn't stop me from trying to catch up to you. I can try and fill those 120960 moments with my leaps over cracks in the sidewalk to reach your side.
Yet you've whispered to me, I'm not a digit over 7355. That you've watched the ticker count, and it announces every 1440 moments that  7355 has not changed for 1040 repetitions.  
I can hear in your exhale that staring at the defunct device has been in vain. That your desires, for it to be somewhere near your own 8534, are blatantly not occurring. I feel the heat of your blood as the rush fills your mind that if you stare any longer, your counter will pause too.
You tell me that there has been a problem regarding my recorder and there is nothing you could do because you had to tend to your own to ensure it wouldn't falter.
You don't know that I am a mechanic. And I diligently examine the mechanism. The gears for the face in mine have not been greased.
I had always just kept the clock wound - forgetting that it is useless for a watch to move forward, if it never displays the correct time.

I think I doubt myself too much
Or is it just a lack of faith in my heart
I think my mind won't let me be

I think it might be that I'm lazy
Or is it just an excuse
I think I keep allowing myself to get away with metacognitive ******

I think that I am strong
Or is naïveté catching up to me again
I think I am wrong on this

I think I need to slow down
Or am I just listening to people who can't catch up
I think I'm not fast enough

I think I believe in karma
Or do I just desire that the universe has a balance system
I think, logically, I just brought this upon myself

I think and act strategically
Or I don't and I move instinctively
I think I think too much

The truth is I keep lying to myself
The truth is I want to think I doubt myself
The truth is I hope I'm more than just this
The truth is I'd like to be on top
The truth is I think I might need external validation
The truth is I can't stop
The truth is I'm only human, no better or worse than anyone else
The truth is so are you
The truth is I'm not a runner but I keep sprinting away
The truth is gonna catch up to me

Purkyně lux lit lunatics conjure vignettes of geomancy.

There is mischief enchanting the wake: xenophagists fiending tricks.

For invokers, who bathe in moonlight, death is a good nights sleep.

Magnets;
lock and key;
and, the unsubtle,
bolt
and *****.
These are things that collide harmoniously and do not dispute

We are not such an archaic, mechanized metaphorical construct.

I feel us as primal,
torrid decadence;
a deliberate impassioned vulnerability:
an animalistic exposé.

Unfocused, infinite black holes
expanding
to be lost within

Quivering circle of solicitous, engorged fuchsia
steaming harsh,
needy
attempts of oxygen recovery

Soft powder snow
melting over olive tree trunks,

quaking with endless echoes resonating from beyond the hills above

A thunderous harbinger centers chaos,
rampaging gust-like vibration through taut roots,

a volcanic eruption.
Lava geyser

blazing till all energy
enthralls the earth.

What I see for us is a metaphor in nature.
I will be the seismic activity
and you
will dance above me.

Your world will collapse against me

in my relentless motions.

And when you stand again,
I will bring you to
your knees

in my aftershock
and show you strength that will move you mountains.

Rotunda of doors
Select an arbitrary gateway
Rotate a frigid bronze **** and dislodge
Gaze into an opaque, stone encircled realm
Proceed through the division
Inhale damp, stale earth
Hesitate in a moment of hair-raising atmosphere
Ignore and tread slow
Ignore the echo of the sole warmth emanating in rapid succession from within
Ignore the nagging to turn back
Do so anyways
Realize pupils dilate when the entrance is not visible
Debate possibilities
Feel pointless muscle movement pulling white eyes for stimulus
Exhale tension melting air
Whine and tread against small stalagmites
Extend palm forward and to the side
Grasp for sight
Grab nothing
Constrict throat down
Acknowledge and accept the situation
Continue onward
Stumble against a solid
Release pain
Trace the direction of hopelessness
Follow with purposeful motions
Brush against another impediment
Successfully avoid
Allow air to flow against dry tongue
Taste lifelessness and potential
Release resolution and determination
Gain momentum
Allow ears to beg for rays of sun
Decide resiliency
Pant and expend time
Sense vision assimilating
Investigate the environment
Crouch and take in the floor
Gasp and whimper
Behold bones
Three sixty and engage all faculties
Cower as truth speaks: labyrinth.
Lift chin and only stone above.
And collapse, collapse onto knees in dramatic fashion
With back arched over, hands grasping and pulling at hair
Fight against reality.
Terror eviscerates.
Submit on to the parasitic solid inorganic void.
Become more bones.

I'm a man who has a lot on his mind
Trying to live simply
Love does not allow such a thing
****** by mans needs to attain, achieve, and assimilate. Love provides the highest goal. A roller coaster of magnificent proportions. A soaring 90 degree drop that shoves g forces into a person. Just as elusive as gravity's hold and an astronauts fire to break free of it to fully explore the universes mysteries. I never swore myself to an easy life. I want a full elaborate being interlaced with another soul. I want to just to set the table with all that composes me and have it laughed upon just to see a smile, a crinkle in soft complexion; a curving imperfection with the oscillations that could reverberate above a symphony because you'd be seated next to me and I would take your hand and feel the basic life giving energy that keeps us alive and I would know we exist for each other and that after the orchestra has struck it's last chord we would leave together for another night and I could listen for another day's sigh of happy existence.

I don't know much about things and life. I'm not a business man who has ideas as to how to multiply a dollar into two. I think of value in time. And I may not have lived long enough to say I'm an expert. I claim none of that. I do know for the past decades of my consciousness I have been a human. I have had a steady pulse and oxygen flowing through my lungs. I can feel myself and know cogito ergo sum. My life has not led me to any absurd epiphanies. In fact, I only have one request of my cells so long as they thrive. I wish for them to resonate with the thump thump of another's vivacious metabolism; dissect my cardiac walls and place an individual cell of mine near yours and I would need no Buddhist teaching to tell me i have achieved nirvana when I see that molecular aspect of me sync with you. I could not ask of you to do the same; a point that would **** you to make but I trust in my blood enough to know we share the same vitality and that if I am one with you, you've accepted my aura into you.

You are refreshing
like the breeze on a hot day.

It is not in that you make me forget
the rough environment
and offer a moment of calm.

And not in the motion
that relieves the senses
through gust.

But rather, cleansing
in that you remind me of
juxtapositions in the world:

the arid and cool;
the stale and fleeting.

Just like the wind, you are brevity
that clearly shows
why contrasts highlight
and you are the
pleasant other underscored.

But how do I communicate
a word that lacks an English translation?
A feeling so essential to my well-being?
One that this
culture
denounces,
dejects,
despises
so easily,
Without changing what I look like in your eyes?
Hesitation of true affection

Amae, I want to share with you.
A home, not a house.
The mother's loving concern.
The safety of knowing that it is okay.
You'll be there and I
presume you will.
And this gives me shivers to imagine;
indulgence of security.

But that's codependent
Check the DSM-V.
I think the APA is wrong.
I challenge over 137,000 who seem to agree
that my need for people is
disorder,
disease,
debilitation.

Because I can see through a window in my heart,
that shows me a world coexisting;
once realized
we need each other
because we are human.
We want to live harmoniously, in unison.
I want to care of my fellow man.
I am celebrated for aspirations
of massaging the soul,
fixing the whole,
dedicated to them all.

Why is it so wrong that some days,
I'd like to be on that side of the spectrum?
Amae, Amae, *Amae

As I laid awake
I dreamt of
A morning scene

Where you would open your eyes
and see something impossible to believe
I’d have risen before you- we both now know
This is just imagination- I could not wake anything
resembling the word early.

But I did,
the bittersweet draft flowing through my home
curiosity walks you from the silver-grey linen wrapped around your legs
and the afternoon rays flood your sigh, and you will squint
the morning from your eyes
I will hope that I had gotten the eggs over easy
just right

I’ll see you and open the fridge, pouring you a glass of orange juice
“Omar, you actually did it” these words will flow out of your lips
And I will melt faster than the butter that’ll go on your pancakes.
Yet, I’ll remain cool and composed, give you my tightest smirk
And offer Florida’s best to you,
ushering you on to the beige couch I’ve been wanting to replace,
“Relax, it’s
only breakfast”
even though we both know this is unusual
I’ll throw something chill on to listen to:
Majestic Casual.

The playlist will go on shuffle and Imogen Heap will play
Something I know you know and
I’ll smile like I had known it was to start.

I’ll jump up quick,
reactive as I normally am
scurrying back alongside my kittens, meowing at my heels, to the kitchen
Two yellow pupils contrasted by a black face staring back at me
saying, “You had it right on the practice run; not when it counts”
I’ll grimace and
hunt from cabinet to cabinet looking for a plate
knowing each second,
the succulent gilded interior was hardening

and of course, the serving dish is in the last compartment I check
I’ll slide the golden eyes on to the white porcelain
and proclaim, “breakfast is ready.”
Bringing the array of food to the makeshift dining room in the center
of my apartment, you’ll stand and walk over
and my eyes will trail your after you.

We’ll each fill a plate and take a seat on the couch
I’ll stretch and yawn, reminded of the cup of coffee that woke me earlier in the kitchen.
You’ll try those eggs as I make my way there
and you will tell me,

“These are definitely over hard”
and I’ll only respond with “It’s that bad?
Not even over medium?”
thinking I had saved myself with a lame joke.
You’ll give me eyes that plainly state,
“Are you kidding me?”

“I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll make sure to under cook them.”
And you’ll toss back at me, “How do you know
there’ll be a next time?
You had your chance.”

and I’ll whine and you’ll stop me
by saying “I’m joking!”
and I’ll be so thankful to have shared my least
favorite of meals
with you
and I’ll offer to make it
up to you with dinner.

I know though
this is only a daydream
when I failed to sleep
these nights without you.

I wonder what I am to do with my life.
Then, I see meteors.

In a hammock
On the eve of final exams
There is a scent of caffeine coursed bodies pacing
the distances of Starbucks and the library,
an unusual sight at eleven at night

There is peace
In the fraternity- I think begins with a Sigma-
running around playing a vicious thirty person game of tag
Yeah, I witnessed that wipeout and it was hilarious

There is heat condensed around the height of brains
Struggling to realize dreams that require
Busy work man! It's just like six hours of nonstop busy work
The guy on the bench behind me whined out cooling breath of brown leaves

There is energy in the fractal jungle above
The towering umbrellas of Palm trees which grant me the magic of hovering
I see through waving leaves Orion's Belt.
The light pollution overpowers his body but
he reminds me that there is more in the astral world

Ibis scour the ground
Some would read the tea leaves
that bravest of birds has crossed my path
And I will survive the tests that I allow to define possibilities in life

There is closure to my left
Two girls in a hammock, bodies combined like a turtle in a shell
Only they know what goes on inside,
and all I witness is the harmony that the trials that students go through that unites

Two villages coexisted peacefully, no interactions
maybe some discussion on boundaries, treaties for peace and trade.
An extraneous rumor appeared in one of these villages.
No one was sure where it had started.
Someone mentioned they had seen beastly faces emerge in the night horizon.
The whispers made its way through
soon the town was mortified.

The others, they were observing us.
What could they want that they could not communicate overtly?
The villagers made a decision to protect themselves,
their lives,
their happiness –their status quo
that had been so well kept; now jeopardized by fear.  

Traders continued their interactions,
sharing goods and language.
The ignorant village heard the small-talk,
the covert operations the coinciding people had been ruminating about.

The newly-informed town magnified and mutated
the gossip;
the folk were riddled with anxiety.
If their neighbors were under threat,
what was stopping them from being the next target?  
This xenophobia was to destroy them.

The two ostracized each other;
initial misperception grew
to a common hallucination amongst the people,
they prepared for the worst scenario.

As humanity goes,
somewhere a zero-sum game emerged.

A council was held,
all that they had known was their own home
and the adjacent peoples.
There was nothing else in the known world,
it must be the others.
They are planning on something villainous,
why else the secrecy?

Cut trade, be vigilant, ostracize.
The other village noticed something amiss
Calamity must be in path.
Taking up arms, arranging a force to handle any offenses, and establishing a wall;
they would not fall.

Feud was conceived.
This is the drive of a mind
who incessantly wonders why and how
a devouring morality.

I digress from the story: the villages, armed and defense ready,
see the village that they once knew as peaceful neutrals
once tranquilly existed transformed to potential threats
for they could overthrow the opposing village.
I should be unconquerable
but I know the kisses stealing my breath come with every
inhale,
exhale; my kryptonite is facing life.

I choose to face that fiend
which wouldn’t let me actually give up when there is so much unknown out there.
It’ll haunt me with the damages that I dealt to the allure yet provocation preserves me.

The two villages are within me.
One is the soul depleting, ego-hunting energy ****,
the other is the false hope that I
can change things-
that things are within my control-
that I’ll fake a smile and a real one will appear.

Two hemispheres connected in a skull,
failing to synchronize
a miscalculating rational with a quixotic imaginative vision.

These two villages smoulder;
the clashes zigzag my intentions.
I just wish I knew
what that fictitious, fruit of the grapevine generated monster even was.
It’s been ages since this conflict ignited,
I don’t think any villager knows why they fight each other perpetually,
other than survival.

Sterling eyes close the falling red ward
Big Brother has seen it all
He tells me: there is danger
Terror past the massive, all-protecting Atlantic

Don’t stray there, the mouth
of stumbling heads say,
They want to take away
Our safety, our ways, our Freedom

Mr. Elected reassures
Nothing will harm you
Not with me going there
I don’t want you going there

He speaks like my mom
Warning me of the illicits
I am too vulnerable to experience
It’s death I’ll go to- I’ve been told

Sleepless red monocular
Enlightening the air to a passive blue
It’s opacity beneath and above
Ascending again

Mama and Baba say it’s time to go home
I confront the arid peninsula of Qatar
Lungs accustomed, vitality not frozen
Precariously perceiving the harmful

Sentiments of years past in Jordan,
I wonder why
my kin would ban this place
Rumor on dirt pavement in a draft, ears picking up

The Atlantic is not to be crossed,
A lack of morals, malintentions
lay beyond the scape.
Extravagant grenade above,
Falling to the horizon

And no detonation, collapsing behind a curved veil
Skyward lay the remnants
Of heat, frozen in time
The lips in a box on this shoreside

Warn the zephyrs from the ornery
Reaches towards our home
Be on guard of the deceitful
star at night that rains red

Tomorrow may not be there
My blood brothers of Lebanon say,
But I wait, field of vision
aligned to the east

Aural stumbles translate, articulating
My brethren begin their search of food
And in too many moments unnoticed,
Black on bottom, red on the low, blue slowly suffocating the obscurity above

Like flipped coin midair
Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle
Two ends of a spectrum, Möbius strip

In a room together,
Maxwell’s demon, revolving door
Cancer and chemo
Like life and death
Only one can be
The next is inevitable

Like an election
Only one figurehead may speak for a governing body
Like the seasons
Change is expected

Like a cat left to its own devices
Guaranteed to scare itself after a given time
Man tries to conquer for comforts sake
Mercurial reactions
Like elements under catalyst
Electron orbitals
Exchange positive core
Theory of relativity
A choice of determining
Accuracy of position or velocity

Hermes, deity of mine
Masculine and feminine
Ruler of I
Relieve the war of the immortal twins
Gemini
Battling my heart and mind

Like Newton noted,
You fell from a tree
Unknowing to mankind that the cannon
consequentially altered the history of man
The first fuse ignited,
Alchemy attempted
a potion of eternal life
We met in the middle of where the munitions fell short
Man could **** with this, I traversed from east to west
Fireworks were what we saw when it was lit
A second shot to the unknown dark sky,
we held hands as our experiment rose high
we thought it failed, until the rainbow blossomed
basking in this majesty, we felt so alive

the third explosion we controlled,
a vehicle to explore the unknown,
it was done smart,
Oblong orbits, long been entangled reduced to a formula of dancing bodies
the future was now and like a rocket
our hearts tested the furthest reaches that man had walked

but it has been years; we tested the infinite black sea
In a moment of clarity, as the propellant exploded
I held onto you and you tethered me
with little oxygen in the air,
I gave you what I couldn’t share

Like weighing scales, balanced fragile
a much regretted fall

Vibrant yellow back
Defiant black streaks
Deceptively cute

Solid almost artificial blue unlike the sky or ocean
Speckled with the night
Assuming an artificial rainbow

Small eyes that radiate innocence
And an equally built body

Your diet is of alkaloids
Psychotropic substances
You use them to protect yourself
Psychedelics have brought you questions you'd rather not answer

I've indulged in the natural poisons
I can see beauty in harm, purpose, necessity
But if I let you be, I know you're no danger to me
Though, I'm a little too late

You're delicate and I am clumsy
You've warned me not to get to close, I’m bound to get hurt
I yield to what yearns to cradle your amphibious nature,
so unique to a monochrome world

Physicality is your weapon
An open wound lets your corrosive membrane transfuse my blood
You flood me
And oh, I moan. Action potential discharged, the sensory impulses to my brain.
You stop feeling slippery in my hand as I begin to rust

Little one, you escape my hands  
But I am paralyzed

Thickened blood, what went so wrong
Tender in touch, I didn't hurt you
But your defensive, corrosive skin reflected your inner malintent

Black mamba venom indisputably pierces the skin
Harsh betrayal of curious wonder
Black widow toxin, an unblunted destruction of the dermis
But you came in celebrated color

How am I to trust visual credibility of sinlessness
You're a poison dart frog
When the beauty that once enticed me
Has hardened the sanguine essence that filled me with vitality and awe