Snowflakes and fingerprints
We are all 'unique.'
But if we account into this,
the law of probablilty
and an infinite amount of time.
Will there ever be two identical snowflakes?
Will my DNA ever be replicated,
or am I already a copy of someone else's view
And even in
one billion years
will there
ever
be
another you?

they want your first words—your last words
but nothing in between

do not read between the lines

there is nothing written there

we got along so well but
but this is the final thing we will agree on:

even i am surprised at how
how softly i can let you go

you called me liquid because my language is fluid
i didn't call you fire because between water—there is a winner
and with us there is no loser and also
no champion.
you are oil
so close, so close—
but we will never be the same.

I inject venom at your words
yet every syllable is still a password to Heaven.

It's easier to hate a lover than a stranger.

A plane flies off through the window.
257 people go to Heaven as
A plane flies off through the window.

You came, you saw, you conquered.

Ripped my flesh off to reveal my internals.
Walked out wordless;
     left me to wonder...

What   just   happened?


Your memory is a stale reminder of how I will never find another
     just quite you.

We were two halves of a broken heart,
but our torn and serrated edges willed us not to connect.

When you left, it
was tough.
     Is tough.

i am still waiting for the day you wake up from your three-year sleep

Social ladder like a spider web.
The hunter, eight lilting legs,
makes her way to her chessboard.

She can see her reward.
In the center, he stills.
This is her game of conquest,
Possession over thrills.

One leg on a spoke,
seven others slowly follow.
No throat to choke,
    no going back.

To the first tier,
more than a crossroad.
The intersection friendship,
A link to his abode.

One level to the other,
connecting one another.
She is taking over his social circle.
She can see the podium.

Closer now, to the epicenter.
    So close.

One circle away, all she can see,
The boy, the prey, the delicacy.

Look at that *****
swallowing pills
like *****
because the people endowed to her
this poem
and she only bothered to read
the title.

.

There are two of me.

We are twins,
me and her.

Same body,
Different soul,
But combined?

Two parts but still the same.
Dual songs, one unsung.

I am the snake's forked tongue


The only thought
both minds share freely:
Who am I?

Who am I, really?

carved you out of me
and the cancer is gone.
i'll deny every word of it but
(i know we both look at the holes)

I look at these four letters
I use but cannot ever
truly own//
You will never be my blackness.
Never meet my skin
on your
skin.
s-s-senses
dont sense you.
cant seem to
finger on-
trigger-
it
back.
pull.
now
we
go.

I can't.
Can't I?

When I was seventeen
I was content with marriage.

I am more afraid of commitment
when we do not acknowledge it.

Do not go blindly into
this night.

Tell me where we are going.
I turn my high beams on
when I drive the freeway.

Sanity, stability, sobriety.
Everything you've never
given to me.

I can never heal if all you want me to be is a bleeding heart.

I wonder how many
solved games of solitaire
are equivalent to
an ******.

sleeping not dreaming

of dreams when awake


it doesn't fit—
no,
it never has

stop writing me novels (because
i have never read them—and i
am not about to start)

I am a cocktail of spite and melancholy
sip me slowly, my percentage is high
and my intoxication will sneak up on you
like children's ghost stories

i am sorry for nothing
except knowing you.

"Run. And never stop."
She didn't say it,
She wrote it.
On an old platform we used to
cross our competitions
and
She won.
She always won.
And I told her as
she got on the plane
"Run. And never stop."*
Later, again,
I didn't write it, I said it to her
as she called me from the hospital payphone.

kissing pinot grigio
holding glass to cheek
refilling bottle, drop by drop
each milligram worth its weight in salt water

whatever omniscient is awake and
watching me join the 2am club
for a fifth night in a row
i hope you know i would love to watch you too

we learn such lessons from the loneliness
and remember nothing in the morning

this pillow talk is lost in translation from night to day

i myself
an amalgamate
of little words
long pauses
you are without brackets
we multiply, divide
but never add

Separate beds and shades
Of reds. Intimacy is
A ****** handprint.

It has been another morning:
Of waking up hungover,
looking back on all the decisions I regret
and words I said too loudly.

Last night,
I did not drink
but I still
wake up
hungover with regret.

Komodo Dragons don't stop
to pick off the skin and gut
a ****. Eat the liver.
Eat the kidney. Eat the jugular
vein. Eat the
Cardiac artery.

Kicked in the teeth, cut by my lovers
and there's nothing i can do about it—
not that i would have wanted to change it,
anyways. swallowed in sadness.


speaks of dreams and lives in madness
eyes like oceans, swallowed in sadness.
swallowed in sadness.

don't you ******* touch my skin
with your tainted fingertips
i'm a painter but even i
won't touch my lips
to hands that once held her
hips during *** and sin

don't you ******* touch my skin

taking time captive,
my future tightens
his hand on his own
throat. he acts like a
mother after birth.
i learn to follow steps
once pressed into me,
now fading out.

did i pull away or did you?
what i wouldn't do
for one more taste
of that wet embrace.

we find a balance
in the absence.


we find a balance
in the absence.

A battle between
crosshairs,
we fall
and
rebound
back; we crack;
ricochet.

The bullet grazed,
and kept at bay.

you were made of
good intentions, thin hips,
and soft shoulders.

i was weak,
with bruised knees,
and thought with my lips.


if we were to ever agree on a god:
he would be physical—and he
would know our secrets.



he would be made out of them.

I am waiting for the day
When technology catches up with imagination.
When I will be able
To sort your chemical composition.
To breach your prefrontal cortex.
To purge out your ego.

I still find the taste of you
(both name and skin)
hidden under my tongue.

"How do you prefer to fall?"*


Test me.
Test my patience
And my soul
Test my heart within my whole.

I like a challenge, a puzzle.
I am too accustomed to easy.


Make me wonder why I am even here,

Let me delve the answers from my inner core.

You will never find

what you want—

Only what you wanted.

How can you see colors but not
how the things you say

      (hurt me).     /

It was the brightest side of your clever mind
That, with mine, did intertwine.

It was the brightest side of the sun that sways
The grassy plains in which we lay.

It was the brightest side of your darkest day
I saw your sanity slip away.

It was the brightest side of my heart that died
When you left.

I am the narcissist that
fell in love with my own
mind and sadly found out:
It's an abusive relationship.

There is Braille above the warning on an electrical socket.
How do blind people know where the outlet is.

I believe in something greater than I—I believe in probability.

Musei Vaticani may be meaningful, however
I would rather pace the hallways of
the thin spaces that part the seas of your fingers.

Maybe Michaelangelo was wrong
The creation of man isn't meant for Sistine ceilings but the head of our beds.

You've crossed my mind five-hundred times since you've told me—
Wanting to be a functional person, wanting to be a decent daughter, I am cut up and stitched together with threads made of perpendicular thoughts on parallel timelines.

The only way you know is the only way home, but you can cross the street if you need to.