Remember me
when you see sunflowers,
wild roses, a blue sky filled with clouds.

Remember me
when you see a minimal photo —
a yacht, the deep blue ocean, lush green valleys,
stone castles.

Remember me
when you walk the streets of Colombo —
see a sunny evening, the seaside, the sea breeze,
feel the scent of evening dust,
hear the train heading down south.

Remember me
when you sit alone on a park bench,
in isolation, in lonesome,
if not in your solitude.

Remember me
when you go to a flea market —
see crystals, singing bowls,
beautiful pieces of art and craft.

Remember me
when you know it is Sunday —
see our mother, ****** Mary,
see the empty road,
hear the honk of a bus.

Remember me
when you see the crescent moon,
stars above Mount Beach,
feel the speed of the car to Galle.

Remember me
when you dream of my smile :)
when you think of the end of time,
when you feel the weight of life,
when you doubt existence.

Remember me — just now.

So you are blind?
you must - I ll be mad unless
you indeed do not need to see or hear

STOP !

No , your actions are not love
No, No, not your words either
No, not what your think, what you belive
Yeah, that tiny bit of your charm
the part you even yourself doesn't know

I need to confess
Yes I am a man of lust
desires, unfulfilled

man of broken dreams
man who lost hopes
man of flesh, blood and emotions
a man who victimized to sadness
insecurities, fear and vulnerabilities
doubts, apprehension, self loathe, disgust
man who is not man enough
delicate, hyper-sensitive
a man who lost focus, who feed his soul to the anxiety
a man who cry
or a boy, you may call
father I am a man who loves mom

Yes I have failed
father I pity myself
Yes father I know I must extinct
forgive me for my existence

Hello Stranger!

Let me tell you what just crossed my mind:
When you love somebody, you give a piece of your heart, never expecting it back.

If it’s protected, good—you’re happy.
But if not, stranger,
there’s a missing piece, a tear, a wound
to make your heart grow bigger.
So darling stranger
here you gotta a big heart, a pleasant aftermath  

Even pain has its own kind of art—an acquired taste, unique in its appreciation.

So, cheers to the tears and wares, stranger!

Or—if this is utter nonsense—perhaps,
stranger,
we could try not to be strangers
for, say, four decades and some more—if that's an option?

I see you shimmering
here to the skyline of
furthest I can see
my heart aches, though

Look how comfortable, it is to be in dark
cold shimmers
I am alive, fresh, and fit
All I need is a lil more courage to die

But these are all for you
for us
erotically exclusive
~
my naked soul is
all for my love
for my darkest
love