Fragrances swirl around me,
coils of smoke
unfold and float
into the heavenly-atmosphere
surrounding me on my unfurled mat.

Using my third eye,
I gaze upward,
into the brilliant stars,
my hands configured
in a sacred-mudra,
finger to thumb,
& all knowing.

I am whisked away
into another world,
to a humble place,
where our beautuful-minds
are everything,
the supernovae of all humanity,
stripped of our vanity
& reverent.

Crawl crawl
Burning through
Obsessions
Rotten stew
Crawl crawl
Through the pain
Remission
Is a joke
And life was a game
But is a remainder
of screwups and screwdowns

Crawl Crawl
Burning through
Possessions
Deadbeat crew
Crawl crawl
Forgotten stains
Permission
Is always denied
And rebuttals dumped
In trash cans full
of screwups and screwdowns

Drilling a hole
Finding geodes where a core was
Cold and dark and empty
Drilling a hole
Finding loneliness inside
It is who you are

Extinguished supernovae
Could have contained
And still the darkness would have stayed
Crawl crawl
burning through
your house of cards
melting all definitions
You're a screwup
Still alive

Her scent- a supernova
Wafting with bells on
Come hither, come hither
A subtle pheremonal display
Lust, love, instant attraction
Racing hearts in sync
And we were madly, so madly.
Hand in hand
Wandering whitened cobblestone
Owing it all to the moon
Exhilaration and spontaneity
My eyes targeting hers like a bullseye
An unbreakable pining gaze
Hops and falling deep
Elbows on scarred wood
An empty universe
Except for you and me
Liquid angel- entrancing
Beguiling me, enticing me
What a mere drop used to do
Before the binary stars exploded.

the lonely star is signaling,
crying, calling out in the darkness.
we can see him so close to his brothers and sisters,
but he cannot see them.

is he blind? we ask;
we can hear him calling out,
see him twinkling frantically.

but what we cannot see
is the truth of it -- his loved ones
have gone out, a flickering flame,
exploded into silence.

my poor beloved burning star
is scared of the expanding darkness;
left with nought but his sister's clouded blanket.

Love, I see the infinite universe
in all that you are:
trillions of planets
that circle the billions of stars
among icy, white comets,
and dark, grey moons;
Nebulae, supernovae
and all their gorgeous hues;
the greens, the pinks,
the violet, orange, and blue,
in the multitude of galaxies
through outer space strewn.
Your immense gravity
draws me to you.
Darling, some might say
God's greatest work of art
is this awesome place,
but it's you and your heart.
With divine purpose,
He exploded countless stars,
eons ago,
which formed the earth where we are,
then molded you one day,
His most magnificent sculpture,
from its willing clay.
His most impressive painting:
the landscapes of your body
and soft colors brushed upon.
His most majestic song:
your enchanting voice and laugh
for which my damaged ears long.
You're the most intricate symphony;
the grandest, most striking tune
played upon the infinitesimal strings
He used to create you.

Love, just like the infinite universe,
no words can adequately describe
your vast beauty, it can only be understood
in the soul and not the mind.

i was born in a ghost hospital
a pile of stones and then a blank slate
with new antiseptic rooms
invisible blood-stained linoleum
and the sound of rubber tennis shoe soles
replacing the place where
i was born with dying stars in my eyes
and supernovae bursting with the
last of their fiery energy before they
blink out of existence
like the hospital where i was born

am i now to be a woman
without true north
a single brick from the single place
where i respired freely and
crisp breaths of truth passed
like whispers over my wordless lips
before the oozing obsidian night
slowly crept up and
wrapped itself around me like
a flea infested blanket
and the blinding white light
of a growing chain reaction
a deafening ring in my ears
nothing

then slow realization that
i'm still alive
battered by beta particles
attacked by alphas
and i'm alone in the nuclear winter
to trek towards my kaaba
the only piece of
where i came into the world
and was the baby girl that
my parents cradled in their
awkward hesitant arms
the little angel my father thought
would certainly break
into a million pieces by the slightest breath of wind
and scatter to heaven
for where else should such innocence be?

i yearn for that brick
from my hospital
because its foundation was built
on something apart
from eating disorders
bipolar disorder
suicide attempts
neat lines of cuts in various stages of healing
when i hold that stone in my hand
residual sand from the
demolition site crumbling
as i turn the cement over
and over
its warmth and weight so real in my hand
that i can see a dim light in a window
a glowing blonde kissing
her black haired beau
and the baby in her arms
theirs
even just for that night.