Love still etched upon the page
Fading yes but still this rage
Where hearts that pounded, best as one
Will forever live, are never done.
I run my fingers across those words
Recorded there a love unheard
But bound in time, two lives as one
Now torn and stained, our hopes undone.

Vowels and consonants

Pool together into words

As my emotions rain down

The grim and grit

Of every memory clings

To each sentence

Until I step in

Then they collect on me

Dampening fingertips

And soaking my tongue

I jump in

Splashing out thoughts

Until I am coated in my imagination

I stomp through

The puddles of letters

Saturating me with words

And sentences are dripping

From my chin

An unwritten epistle,
                            now an epitaph...

and i will wait for you here on the other side, where the earth and her fields await the footsteps of that girl who dared to swallow pomegranate seeds — each one holding a tenfold of unsaid apologies. i will wait for you here, where the storms i brewed found themselves pressing against the softness of lilacs, where the nightfall forgives the sunset for leaving, where morning smells of teakwood and rain. and you will realize that each sigh does not have to weigh like a thousand bent bromeliads — that each breath does not have to ache in the presence of morning light. you will deserve every bit of softness you tried so hard to ****. you will deserve every bit of moment that doesn't hurt — someday, you'll get here and you'll know. you'll know.

— to my younger self

time was talking to me in a bubble of dreams
asked me if i was ready for a new experience
since time doesn't speak to you normally, i stuttered:
ye-yes, i'm ready, bu-but where will it take me?

well, young man, time said, it will take you to
a country that has never been discovered
this country is made of islands, thousands of them
nobody lives there, except orange birds and fish

but forget all the islands, they are lifeless, excluding one:
home to a man who is called golem the violinist
he consists of letters and is mute, he can not speak a word
how will i talk to golem then? i asked inquisitively

time didn't answer my question; it just smiled gently
i blinked and afterwards, i arrived on the island
swarms of orange birds were roaming the air
silver waves were surging against my naked feet

was i really dreaming? i pinched myself and it hurt
i was not dreaming because i could feel the pain
suddenly, i could hear a violin, slowly played
i turned around and saw golem, his eyes closed

golem was huge, athletic and coated in tattoos
the entire body was covered with the alphabet
golem's head was nodding to the melody of the music
puzzled, i asked him which song he was performing

he didn't answer; i had forgotten that he was mute
i asked again, he put the violin aside, devoted mien
golem raised his index finger and placed it on a letter
it was an "s", curiously, i followed his finger, as he continued

i finally read the words "sunshine adagio in d minor"
but at this stage of my life, i was just listening, passively
today, i depend on music to write, on orchestral sounds
"sunshine adagio in d minor" was played by the golem

he presented me the grace and strength of the violin
i could never visit this island again; never in my life
golem enchanted me so heavily, my memory is erased
i can't remember the way to his island anymore

it is not on any map, nowhere, but i kept something:
golem introduced me to breathtaking music, heaven yeah!
and the violin has been inspiring me since then
sunshine, adagio in d minor: i do admire you, song

i thank you golem for your gift and for your time
maybe you'll read this one day and tell me the way back
back to your island, back to the birthplace of muse
i love you brother, you are like kin, all yours, mikey

I lay and looked up today
and on the cerulean blue
a letter was written in different hands

Starlings told of the everyday
shuttling from A to B til teatime
while flits of blue *** and dunnock
hinted at local worry
maybe at the lackadaisical cat
whose frou-frou collar
ruins the hunt

In fancy script the swifts
wrote high and mighty
chasing the imperceptible,
so not so distant really

The paragraph break of the red kite
weighed in
and wings and fingers stopped
to marvel
at near perfect epistolary

a             b             c             d             e             f             g             h
happy|sad|      happy |sad    | happy | happy |sad |happy
i             j             k             l             m             n             o             p
happy|sad|    sad|    happy|  sad|    happy|      sad|     sad
q             r             s             t             u             v             w             x
sad|   sad|       sad|        sad| happy|    sad|        happy|    sad
y             z  
sad| happy


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