Like a flame igniting an old engine
A frisk of energy sparked
Turning my rusty, frozen gears
And restoring my memories of you.
In a hidden corridor in time -
A dimension since locked away
We two share an instant -
An unobtainable, infinite moment.
Like a fog creeping in on my soul -
An ironic, melancholy nostalgia;
I dream of sunlight on canopy roads
In a place I once called home.
Trapped in a reality without you
We've since broken our promise,
Extinguishing the embers
We swore to smolder forever.
This life is a sort of purgatory -
A spiritual test and journey;
A short waiting period before
We again walk hidden corridors.

There are no what ifs,
In the sea of the could haves.

For what should,
Certainly would.

Leaving only,
What is, to be.

There I was yet again –in the middle of my thoughts. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts take me wherever they could. Every breath seemed like it lasted a lifetime. Every intake felt like a new life innovating my consciousness. I was high on the hope for something new. I had broken pieces of my heart in my left hand –weighing me down and down. But I kept on holding onto the rope of rejoice with my right hand. As bizarre as it sounds, I felt good. I felt relieved with my dark side and the brighter side. The car horns in amidst of this city echoed -one after the other. It was as if everything was finally in its right place. It was as if I was finally who I were supposed to be. Every thing I was feeling —all made sense. My freezing hands, the cool breeze against my face, the tears stuck in my eyes, the crowded streets, the sound of giggles coming from a distance –this city made me feel alive once again.

She is sunburnt.
And her blemishes are blisters
That has popped on her
Beautiful wrinkled skin.

The white lines are the contour
Of her face.
And short lines are freckles
And her eyes.
Double short lines are the bridge
Of her nose
And long double lines,
That last for miles,
Is her smile.

Sink in a posh, wayward dream boat
Or come ashore in a torn reality boat

Seek and crave for one fairy tale ending
Or live tiny fairy tale moments with joy

Hear and believe beautiful lies
Or brace yourself for ugly truths

If you encountered such crossroads
Which ones would choose to travel?

What is your mileage?
What distances have you carried yourself?

Tell me of the roads.
Of summer evenings spent gliding on smooth, black asphalt. Tell me about the sounds, harmonizing with the warm thrum of your heart.

Tell me of the beaten paths.
Of midday walks on cracked, uneven sidewalks teeming with life, giving way to budding blades of green, and dandelion dreams.
Tell me how the sun stung your skin, how soft breezes whispered at the nape of your neck.

Share with me the memory of winter mornings past.
Of the biting chill kissing your cheeks as your feet trudged through soft white expanses.
Of the cold that set in your bones as you waited for the bus, and the fat wet flakes that fell in flurries.

Tell me all of it.
About the freedom that spring brings, the buzz of bees and possibilities. The gorgeous lull at 10am and the swell of your soul.

Tell me the way the falling leaves of autumn trees speak to you. How their crunch tickles your mind.
Tell me how October skies dazzle you, while the stars shine, reflected in your eyes.

Spend with me a moment of intimacy. Show me the things beyond the windows to the soul.
Share with me what your odometer reads.
Let me read the map of you.