Looking at the window,
I see you, all alone , among others
all are growing up, but you are spending your last day of life,
  
Heavy rain, storm, sunshine ,
every weather that passes by you,
You are waiting for your end to come
like a human, you are spending your last journey like a corpse & you look  like an ash

Everytime I see you,
You make me feel of some pain
that you want me to take some heed on it

But I am unable to reach you,
You are in anguish of something
that cant be seen by eyes
but can be felt by heart

Each day I go deeper&deeper; inside you,
your pain is felt within me
Your voice is  trying to reach me
but everytime, I hear your echoes of weeping
and I am still again

Last night of heavy storm,
made me afraid of your existence
as I went to see you
you were not there
You were gone

I left the place ,
                    &
  "Your pain still remain a mystery for me "

I can only remember this part...

Maybe a lucid dream hope I've gone to bed with every night.
Perhaps a sleeping memory.

You...
Running your fingers a hairs breadth away from my skin.

Traveling carefully...
From my forehead down to my tinted cheek,
Moving the curls that had been in the way as we talked.

You gently pulled back your hand,
As if, not to offend me by its retreat to your pocket.

You murmured an apology to yourself and I could only muster half a laugh...

Partly because of the endearing gesture,
Also... the surprise of your touch.

You spoke up louder after a second, all the while staring at me with a misplaced bewilderment in your eyes.

"That's what scares me about you" is what finally materialized through the cold fogged breathes our impromptu conversation inspired.

And..

I didn't know if you meant the idea of it,
Or the realization of the fall.



*©NDHK

An angel
wrapped in gauze.
Lying still
on coarse,
unmoved sheets.

Soft,
tender skin
pulled tight
over blood
and bone
by taut stitches
pierced through
the wreckage.
My angel.

Surrounded
by colour,
bright flowers
that fill the room
with a sweet odour
as they die.
I tell myself
that I can't
smell her too.

The sun
streaming in
through the window
is too hot,
but she shivers.
Now and then.
Her eyes,
so bright
when she looks
at me.

I touch her hair,
and whisper
in her ear.

An angel
wrapped in gauze
prays to a god
she's never seen.

I hold her hand,
long after she's let go.

on the borderline, simple
thoughts guide breathing
patterns out from
the front porch: i
dream we
abscond, out through
blurred fencelines in
low light we trickle
through pockets of
wheat, the tumult of
everything under a
moon first distant,
gleaming and moving
creeks in your skin, pale
gold like i so often imagine
your eyes would turn
under the soft parting of
my lips. a ghost yet
unmade. haunted i, already.

in dreams, i do not have
you but
still, you take me by
the hand, utter warm silence,
make small motions, closer
by the day. i take out
my hairs one by one, clog
the sink a
tiny bit more. build an
ocean. sail to make
us, halfway. a wider
range, the only way out
a kiss on the wind. i
sent myriads, all lost;
still, maybe someday you'll
find one.

out under three thousand
shining points unstitching,
we mutually profess undying
nothing and graze skin. my
fingertips will never know
you.

Before your eyes fill
with fading,
come rest them here.
Let my shoulders bear
your burden;
let me absorb your tears.
Give this day a rest;
your wounded heart
is weary.
Close your tired eyes;
you've done your best.
Close your tired eyes,
and let me do the rest.

r ~ 5/16/14