he stood at the precipice of the most beautiful sunset
breathed in the colors
                            ... and exhaled loneliness
inhaled THC
              ... and coughed out a single sigh

he had seen it before

but from a different angle altogether
over the hills of her body
the colors seemed more vivid
his senses more alive
against the soundtrack of her heartbeat
the cascade was more than just a view
it was a glimpse
                              of what life could be

Divide the moon into two halves,
You'll find inside a million lamps,
Also cut the heart into two halves,
You'll find inside blood and valves.

Romance is trapped in a Shakespearean novel,
He buried it under the centuries with his shovel,
And the modern fast pace modified the human brain,
It's only a repetitive pattern of falling in vain.

Juliet has a husband, he's older by twenty years,
He's never home, she's always out shopping new fears,
Romeo is jobless, searching ups and downs for a key,
He heard life starts in the aftermath of a dream.

The old witch sitting in front of a glass bowl,
Now broke and retired, all her cookbooks are sold,
And the wolves are out, ruling the woods,
Magic's density in the air, isn't as high as it should.

So plug the stars out, pluck all the electric flowers,
The universe is now running low on power.*

● ● ●

I heard him say that she was the most beautiful
woman in the world
I looked at her and knew that she wasn't.
I heard him say it again and again
-day in,
day out-
and I still could not understand

until I met the most beautiful woman in the world.

If given the
chance
will you live this
life
again?

The exact same
raindrops
on your head,

the exact same
heartbreaks
everyday

the exact same
smiles
fake and real

the exact same
books
you've read

the exact same
disease and sickness
again.

the exact same
life
you have
right now.

I know
i wouldn't.

This one way trip
didn't amuse me
at all.

This home—
this compilation of bricks and stones,
rough and speckled
from seasons had and passed.
glue and insects
crawling in the woodwork,
carving out paths
of pits and channels.

I once knew that step,
tripped over it with tiny feet,
with questioning heels,
friends and lovers in tow.
once knew that kitchen windowsill
where I carved my name
(but later swore I didn't),
silently retaining the lie
over years of meals on
smooth wooden tables.

I put the holes in these walls
I shed my skin in these rooms
my existence echoes through these halls.
and I sign my name in dirt, i was here.