you have made it clear:
“let go of me.”
so let go i did.
request granted.

permit me this now -
to write you unmasked.
without coyness
nor shadow of pretense,
i scribble this about you:

once,
i have refused
to envelope
your memories
with fantasies,
not wanting
to mix them up.

now, though,
frustrated by reality
i have allowed
my imagination
to take its own course -  
your lips yielding against mine,
my hands trembling
as it seeks your chest,
my heart pulsating wildly
in tune with yours.

when once,
I have refused
to write you
in the beauty
of my dreams,
now
there is nothing left
of you
but the mirage
of hopefulness.

you are now my hero,
my muse,
the fancy
behind my poems.

you are so much more
than you used to be,
but only
because I have closed
my eyes
and allowed you
to be swallowed
by my heartbreak.

for j.e.
*100714

you are the aftertaste of coffee.
after the jumpstart,
the palpitation,
here you are,
sadly bittersweet.

you are the persisting vision
of a falling star.
its trail of light
remain before me
even after it’s long been gone.
i’ve tried to catch it
with my feeble hands,
only to grasp nothingness.

you are the aftermath
of an earthquake,
of which i found myself
at its epicenter.
even after rebuilding,
i found
that nothing is
as it was.

you are the tune
that keeps playing
over and over again
inside my head.
i’ve being lss-ing
over your memories,
singing a song
i’m not sure
if i’ll ever hear again.

you are an aftertaste,
a persisting vision,
an aftermath,
an lss
that i wrap around myself,
holding me together,
keeping me from falling apart.

for j.e.
*100314

Do not speak, love.
Hold your peace.
Keep your silence.

Listen.
Listen.
Listen.

Do you hear it –
The lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub?
Tell me.
Do you hear it?

I’ve been trying
To silence it,
Muffle it with poetry,
But it is there.

Lub-dub, lub dub, lub-dub.

It won’t stop.
It won’t stop…
It won’t stop!

It’s right here.
Right here!
in my center,
at my core!

Lub-dub, lub dub, lub-dub.
It won’t keep quiet!
Lub-dub, lub dub, lub-dub.
It won’t be still!

Lub-dub, lub dub, lub-dub.
Lub-dub, lub dub, lub-dub.
Lub-dub, lub dub, lub-dub.

Be still, love,
Be still.
Be still!

Do not speak, love.
Hold your peace.
Keep your silence.
Listen.
Listen.
Listen.

Do you hear it –
The lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub?
Tell me.
Do you hear it?
Listen!
Why won't you hear?

for j.e.
*100114

wrong move.
wrong move.
wrong move.
that picture.
that smile.
those hands.
those hands.
those hands.
my heart.
those memories.
those hands.
my heart.
those hands.
memories.
hands.
heart.
wrong move.
wrong move.
that picture.
wrong move.
my heart.
those memories.
that smile.
those hands.
those hands.
those hands.

for j.e.
*093014

i panicked when you were nowhere in sight
not before me, nor behind me.
i searched for you in my room,
but you were not in my boxes,
nor in my keepsakes.
i opened well-loved pages of poetry,
and all i found were decomposing petals
of long-lost reminiscence.
i searched and rummaged,
and all i found of you were
bits and traces of a presence
not yet even pieced together.

who you are for me
cannot be contained
by a box, a page of verses,
a tumbler, or a photograph,
but those were all i have of you.

how can someone of such gravity
be for me so limited in presence?

for a moment,
i had to fight the urge to believe
i only made you up.
the voice that lulled me to sleep
one starry night –
could it possibly be a dream?
were those big hands
that never failed to grasp mine
mere imagination?
those eyes, that smile,
are they but a compound
of so many other eyes and smiles?

oh how easily i forget,
you exist apart from my memories!
your voice, your hands
are not dependent on my ability to feel nor hear.
my verses cannot summon you,
nor can their absence limit who you are.
i do not need to remember you
for you to be there.
neither should my heart beat
for you to be loved.

you are your own,
capable of storing your own keepsakes
and pressed petals.
should you choose to,
those big hands can take hold
of any other hand.
you can choose to gift anyone
with the beauty of your smile
or of your song.
and i need not be the object
of your affection
for your own heart to beat wildly
against your chest.

you are
even if we’re not.
i am
apart from you.
you will always be you
even if i was not in the equation,
and I will always be me
even if you are not the object
of my metaphors.

for j.e.
*090514