We teeter at love's edge, paralyzed by fear. That sometimes I wonder if it's the height that terrifies us or the fall into love itself? knowing that our survival is beyond our control.

a wailing groan
fists of triumph
lies
the shards of broken promises
from this shallow vase
cut anyone who try to fix it.
Do you really have the answer
or are you just raising your hand?

You’ve got a city pass in City of Uncertain Love,
walked through the door,
didn’t so much as flinch,
even after all the plasma drawn from this love,
you walked away hissing,
bared sharp fangs, jaundiced from all the scathing words that flowed,
pale as a vampire,
it was you after all and not me you said.
Enamored with the sights and sound, the 360 degree dining experience with a view of the future, complemented with vocabularies to match your mood, aged like wine in the vineyard of pick-up lines,
while I’m left here in a curiosity shop of brokenness:
kisses spat back into the bottomless void of yesterday;
thoughts of once newly-minted strangers we were scrawling notes and now smeared by tear stains;
a heart with no discernible shape, slapped for dragging beats on the snare;
A corpse of a phone you have murdered taking it off life support when you eloped with my charger;
mismatched pillows you left, still possessed with the ghosts of restlessness nights haunting the halls of my mind with echoing arguments of what to eat for dinner;
a spare key—a wedding ring for a keychain.
I fell apart.
Ring!Ring!Ring!
“So, everything didn’t work out for you?”
—inaudible—
“Do you know what time is?”
—inaudible—
—you missed me?”
—inaudible—
“Uh-huh….
Sorry to hear, but there are no refunds for your freedom ticket. Bye!”
Click!

twelve years ago
a very long time ago
I was just a kid then
(not that I'm any better now)
and love was something new

it felt thrilling, exciting
a young kid entering junior high
I knew most of the kids in my class
every introduction is welcomed
with rapturous claps

but one girl, shy as she was,
charmed me to my bones
she was already taller than me
her skin fairer than the noon sun

it must've been a scene from a movie
for the wind blew her hair about
like a goddess arriving on earth
her smile made me dizzy

God blessed me with a reciprocated love
like a sun-kissed, graceful dove
I jumped like a fool when she accepted me
the date never eludes my mind, it was November three

Alas, I was just a foolish kid then
(not that I'm any better now)
we were happy, if only for a short while
as happy as puppy love could be

her lips did touch my cheek
followed by a quick escape on her part
youthful love, my first love
Gods, we were happy then
she and I,
and maybe everyone...

don't blame me;
a man can only look back
when his future is uncertain
so, allow me this one time

to reminisce
to seek hope
to remember

what I used to be
and what I can be...

(I wrote you most days from the rainforest floor)
                                                                              This is where the                       
moss was                                                           
  ­                                                                 ­         
                                       and they were too

I am out of touch and missing all at once                                 unable to get back to the surface
swimming next to a blue flame
glowing ectoplasm glitters
the tour guide is a woman’s voice       under the stars and everything concave is inside out     far away from what it once was,
                                                            ­                              uninverted
happy is the uncertain                     I looked for you in the chrysalis       and you
                                                             ­                  were still wearing
                                                         ­                                 your socks
                                                           ­      
when you disappeared
I found them in my drawer three days later      tucked themselves in still covered in glitter from the caves
I had so many questions when I reached out my hands
stuck to the walls and swallowed my palm
                                                            ­  silicone and retreating light
it wanted me to stay in a time I could only help but leave
the artists gold leafed my throat like it was delicate and
ready to go on stage                                           wearing shoe covers walking and talking       gently avoiding          swimming their arms the foxgloves developed negatives backwards                                in gelatine                                                         ­                 over water
pasted down                         every darkness bright green lime green stinging                                                         ­  immediately
                                                                ­                             nauseous turning to stone                                      under the gaze of the walls.

although there are only
blue skies overhead
i can still feel
a prickling approach
of distant rain clouds
in the air

perhaps the moth
simply doesn't know
the strength of
its own wings
but the way it flutters
seemingly erratic
        in its choices
never straight forward
        in its direction
can be infuriating at times
as those silken sails
appear to force it
where none expect it to be
in disjointed circles
often far off course
only occasionally
will it find itself
exactly where it should be
whether accidentally
         or by design
its every path is filled
with calculated corrections
revisions and redress
in order to reach
its intended
that source of light
one way or another

tapestries woven of the stars
fading into our dappled sunrise
there, your wings carry me softly—
to be my dove, or my icarus?