I bang my elbow in the shower,
takes a second to realize why

not that I was careless
or enjoy pain, again

but the cascara
cowbell, saxophone,

hands around my shoulders
that are not my own

sunlight squeezing lemons,
flower dress upon the hill

potato enchilada
still
digesting
messing
with my footwork

    possibly

maybe

    I was careless.

Showers are not the place for salsa.

I have so much to say and no words to say it
at the moment
I cannot comprehend beyond the basics



-I've lost everything, but his touch

I've walked and savoured
Seen the magic and ate the food
Sight and hearing may deceive
But taste, fragrance and touch
Directly speaks and to you alone
And by same measure I know
The liars, the blind, and the fools
For their fruits are without taste
Even as plastic fruits are for eyes only

I usually shy from feeling
Another person against my skin.
I'm fragile and gentle and tormented
My bones are paper-thin.

You, however, are an exception.
I love your sweet caresses.
The love and warmth you give
Pull me from emotional messes.

Though I can't see you now,
Know it you of whom I'm thinking,
Dreaming of the better times
When you've saved my soul from sinking.

Now I'd write the world for you
To simply show the grasp you have
Of my entire beating heart, you see,
I've not withheld myself even half.

The words wouldn't come together,
And I'd ramble on for hours,
Never finding the proper way to tell
How intense I feel love's powers.

I know you've much better things
To do than read more lines
So I guess I'll end this letter here
Until your lips once more graze mine.

<3

Holding her hands ignited flames,
kissing her lips felt like an apricot.
A delicate spark turns into fire
as attachment gave us a purple vision.

i’m not sure
what the statistical probability of me
getting into some terrible accident
that causes me to go deaf and blind would be,
and i’m not sure how to research into it.

so my hypothesis remains,
that it’s probably a very small percent.
maybe it’s bigger than i think it is,
i’m not sure.
i never claimed
to be good at numbers.

but in this possibly
very small or very big percentage
of this reality coming true,
i want to make sure that i have, in advance,
memorized every inch,
every crack,
every hidden part
of you.

i want to touch your hands for hours and remember every curve and dip of your fingerprints,

and i want to kiss your lips for days to ingrain in me their taste and the feeling of your breaths.

i want to lay in the crevice of your neck for weeks, to make sure i have studied your scent,

and i want to rub my fingers through your curls for months, so much so that i could recite this poem, even in the after-death.

i want to feel your cheek against mine for years, so that i am able to describe the warmth of it through nothing but colors and love,

and i hope that i can just spend my whole life with you, learning more everyday that not everything is meant to fall.