(haiku)

Places where we stay
Invisible walls apart
–never getting through

You are not supposed to rip pages
out of books bound by human spines
or all of the pages will fall out
and disperse across the ground
like autumn leaves exhausted of trying.

I learned this the hard way.

If there is a cure or concoction
to heal a brilliant mind

I crave it,

because finding medicine to express
my mutilated madness
is like dying without understanding
the allegory of mercy.

He wants to understand what hides
under soft satin skin and apathy.
I see it in the way the crumpled lines on his forehead
form question marks when I cry
because there was never a reason
nor answer
as to why my heart always seemed
to perpetuate the memory
of autumn.

No, he will never know, curious as he is,
because skin is miles
and miles
and miles deep
plummeting down to a hollow core
of sickness
of sorrow
of solitude
that could dissolve all of his worries
but never my own.

late september. bare feet. fifth of jack.
as the sun broke from the wrath
of the unpiercable storm clouds that were blocking
its rays and sunk towards the horizon
the sky turned into a pink so striking
that it was like the world locked
lips and decided that it was
time for the downpour to end forever.

is that what freedom feels like?
when all the barriers that tear us apart
break, does it feel
like late september?
does it feel like walking along the coastline,
the stinging aroma of salt water,
the sound of the waves crashing into
the sand and the
wind whipping stray locks of hair
across your face?
does everything look sublime
and crystal clear?

freedom.
late september.
the most beautiful dream emerging from
a daunting nightmare.

-*z. vega

Window screens filter the outside from the within . And they allow what's inside to escape . Daydreams are filtered in our thoughts . Allowing passage between two worlds , physical and not . But window screen daydreams can be trapped by an invisible barrier , a pane of mental glass on the inside or out .

The first word in Arabic
You ever taught me
Was Aoheb:

Love,
Spelled G-I-V-E
The kind that
I forgot what I was
When I felt you holding me.

But only privately.

Like crossing the street,
We look both ways
Before our hands meet.
Because even though
it's okay for me
Culturally..

We don't do that
Until we're married.

But just like
The next words
You taught me,
Ana fahemt:
I understand.

Like that time
I called you a beautiful Woman..
You got so mad because
You want to stay a girl forever.

Baby,
I never
Want to grow up
Together

I want to grow in.

So give me a garden
To come home to
Give me a heart
I can roam through

When it's 3AM
And both of us
Have ****. to. do.

One day,
When we're tired
Of learning each other's language
You can call me Frankie,
And frankly,
I'll fly you to the moon.

Give my very breath to you
I'll keep you so warm
In my arms that baby,
Your blood will boil.

And I don't mean to spoil the fun
But could you please put that
Super cute face of yours away?

Because
Your smile,
Is so bright
Solar radiation
Needs sunglasses.
And even though
You're sweet as molasses
I don't think that Nasa's
Satellites can handle that
Amount of sunshine right now.

I think
"Ana bufuker."
...really? .. "Ana buhfucker?..
Whatever.. Ana bafaker:
I think,
Google translate is awful.
Especially when it involves
Conversations with your
Your dad and me

Because honestly
I always think I'm gonna
Say the wrong thing
At the wrong time.

And I always just end up
Saying the wrong thing
at the wrong time.
But somehow you always
Seem to know how to
read my mind.

So
Habiby. Aomry. Hayaty.
My love, My life, My age...

...And the rest of the poem is none of your business.

Truly. It's between that girl and I.
But I will say this though:
We don't talk much anymore
And I'm not really sure why.
But I know that
Somewhere out there,
In-between all of the *******
Of our daily lives;

There is a girl that
Is going to speak my language.