Don't be shocked
I've known you since history!
Even a stranger knows you.
You are like water:
Simple, without superfluous colors, smells, or shapes!
💧
This is who you are.
Everyone recognizes you,
even without seeing you before.
Because you're indispensable—
the shape, the smell, and the color of life!
💧
You are not new,
You are water, hence not immemorial.
Cogent enough?!

I rendered a recipe
Of leftovers in my mind
That happen to be
Complete garbage
Of dysfunction.
Where do I begin

It began in my heart
Where I pulled out,
Longing for safety,
Dripping clotless
Rags that made up my frame
My apron stained red.

In the middle was observed
A town of hate
Lacerating the bowels
Of everything and anything
Leaving a mighty stink, mistaking it for butter.

Towards the end a drifting
Spice of malcontent
Sprinkled from the pores
Of harmless thinkers
To crisp the tenderloins
of affection.

The oven is preheated
Everyone a dark hot mess
Needed no thawing
As the goop of alienation
Makes everyone a witness
and a vulture
     for a meal.

No matter how
un-schooled you are
Your neighbor shouting, the stranger drooling,
The cop beating, all have the same home-spun recipe and one main ingredient,
         Human, baked at 325.

Resulting in
a deus ex machina.

Foreigners test us:

are we really as caring --


as we think we are?

meeting you was serendipity
it's practical to move on
live my life
focus on the task at hand
yet my soul yearns for you
and you embody me
like you and I are the same being

a search has come to an end
our souls rejoice
while the bodies sleep in cold beds
I do not understand the loss
of you (or me), dear stranger

So I simply write about
how my soul yearns for you
and how painful it must be
for you to not know the language
of our souls (of love)

I miss the weight of "I love you"
The gentle pull, the soft breakthrough,
A phrase once whispered, raw, sincere,
Now scattered wide, to all who hear

I cast it out, a fragile charm,
A whispered warmth, a healing balm
To strangers, friends, and passing souls,
To mend the gaps, to patch the holes

It’s not a lie, but not the same,
It lacks the spark, the tender flame
Yet still, it blooms in passing hearts,
A love reborn in scattered parts

Perhaps in giving, I will find,
The echoes of a heart aligned
Until that day, I’ll let it flow,
To bloom in places I may not know

Love, the word I used to hate
Bitterness was sweet
Not until dozen of candies
Tasty bounds becomes great
Mind becomes imaginative
Fantasizing everywhere.
As I turn stranger to my lover.

you are a stranger,
my vessel.

i see you,
stranger,
in the mirror.

and i am another,
taken up residence
in your psyche.

stranger of mine,
i stir in your skull.