I don’t know the etiquette
of how eyes meet or for the first time
if they sparkle especially or

if I wore glasses the first time we met
I know I saw you with my intrinsic
looking as if I could pierce
your inner beauty, nor am I biased

I don’t know the business of eyes
beauty has been so over-rated
for so long, thanks to an evolution

but I know the last time
I look inside my heart, you’ll be there
with Asian eyes as deep as
India, China, Japan, Korea

so distinct like laughter of another culture
i don’t know the etiquette of eyes
but mine are drunk brown

not twin-cold blue or milk of salt
but chesnut-star, desire with the tip
of reaching across the universe.

My sister,
will never give life
to another.
Never give life
to a soul
that'd be a part of her
but not truly her own.
Never attempt
to break away
from bonds,
from the young ones
that cling to her
like rain on stone.
Until the last bell
shouts to signify
going home.
I won't,
ever relish in laughter
of chesnut locks
and curls
that aren't my own.
My brother in-law,
will never say
oh that's mine,
when asked,
"which one is yours?"
Nor call someone, my boy
or say, that's my girl.

rims of golden curls
hover above your head
while chesnut spaghetti strands
coat mine instead

underwater your eyes are crystalline
like a true blue green i've never seen
but mine fade from brown to black
never once emitting a gleam

your shirts smell like fabric softener and cigarettes
which i often smell outside
and everything we've ever done
crashes into my mind like a riptide

do you see what i see when i look at you?

As the doors opened,
a beautiful bride I found.
With a pure white gown,
matched with a pastel,
well-arranged flowers, and
a colored hair, chesnut brown.

It was her. The woman I love.
The woman who made me feel
good, and told me that I'm the best.

She is now walking down
the aisle, slowly taking steps
with her father in a celebration
that everyone had gathered.
You can see in her shining
blue eyes the pure love and
happiness she felt.

She made it. She is now in my
front, wearing the best smile
she could ever give.

And there, the moment that
I've been waiting for, the
moment that everyone is
excited for.

I thought I can say,
"I do, Father"
But I was wrong;
Because the right thing
that I should say is,
"You may now kiss the bride".

Spring breeze

bombarded with

countless melodies

and sweet memories


Summer haze

dissipated with your

loving gaze

and everlasing days


Autumn air

the wind blows your

chesnut hair

and your last care


Winter cold

your smile,

brighter than gold

and it never gets old

"I don't tend to use the phrase 'in love'" he said.

I sighed.

"Well, I do." I said sadly. "I'm not anymore, but I was. I really, really was."

He was silent.

"It's so weird to see all this." I gestured to the slideshow of pictures on the screen in front of me.
"This was all only a year ago, and my life is so different now. I thought that this-" I pointed to a picture of myself sitting very close to a chesnut haired boy "- would last forever."

More silence.

"I wonder if he thinks about this. I do. A lot. I don't think I have feelings for him anymore but I still always think about this. We were together from what. . . September 23rd-"

"That's oddly specific."

"To New Year's exactly. And I was still in love with him for four months after that."

"I don't tend to use the phrase 'in love'" he said.

I sighed.

"Well, I do." I said sadly.

Honey pooled eyes
Hair chesnut golden
The sun shines upon you
As if you are chosen

perhaps one of the last few glitches in
the youtube algorithm...
i once mentioned the channel
    hakiri ditari...
               looks like... 666MrDoom is feeding
me up-to-speed 2020 releases...

beside the point...
           brain for fudge... packing...
no exoskeleton to crawl into and become mush...
even if... ms. amber dresses herself
in a cancan attire of a bourbon tongue:
slick...

no real geometry for a god, no god...
thought... here: jigsaw says 'ello...
      and bye-bye...
           when the body is fully retailed...
for the debt to be paid...
for the worth of day...
when all bones are given the ol'
arithmetic... and some new muscles
are discovered: that... "once upon a time"
were treated like mollusks
on the dodo-pact of exodus from existence...

a snail exists...
   i, man: insist...
          a vicious cycle...
          a stone a moon a sea simply is...
a snail exists...
i, as man: insist!
               the golden calf is coming...
i'll look more mediterranean by the day...
i'll become indistinguishable from
the... libyans... or the greeks...
sacarcens or... whatever float me boat:
that particular day...

   lucky me... vamp in december...
i truly can't remember when i last sported
a farmer's suntan!
i'm... white?!
         pass the porky crux of burn...
avaricious suntan...
          suntan... not heretic... antynom...
ah!                    fa'n'ah'tic!
       suntan fanatic... briefly...
               this year... because?
what a strange spring we've been having in
england... no one can remember
such a glorious april! no one can cite
to memory: such a blissfull may!
              i'm white as a... what remains
of the boar: through a pig...
and into what becomes leather... shoes...
and a leather belt...

   everything is treated as an economic gain:
everything: except for the oink...
pig ears are a delight in manhattan... apparently...
if only the pig had...
   crude... camel... hardened toes:
well... you wouldn't eat them...
or bite your own...
bite your nails but find gagging mechanisms
when it's not a fly... but a hair...
floating in your soup...

                 exoskeleton of the body...
or for: the body... god, thought, soul...
sorry... i was too busy today...
i was so into using this brilliance of a...
    magnusson hand-saw...
that... well... it looks like i "forgot" to
check my "other" blood-pressure...
or... i want to reach the point of maturity
where jerking off will be too boring...
where: like today...
the hand can be used for better things
than checking for impotence...
or... frost-bite on this tundra of love in:
zee...         westliche länder...
   hyphen? westliche-länder...
no hyphen compound? westlicheländer?
hyphen? westliche-länder...
no hyphen compound? westlicheländer

i.e. heidegger ponderings VII
"aphorism" XXIII...
         'why do the french have an academically
governed language'

i was just about to ask a... similar question:
why is english a shotgun (shrapnel)
of german...
  moreover: why is german a chemistry-noun
enterprise compounding fudge-patchwork?
more so: why are there remains
of german in english in chemistry...
only there... are there blatant distrusts
of hyphens...
                       dihydrotestosterone...
in english...
              freundschaftsbezeigungen        
in dutch deutsche: no... no dutch...

hyphenated / compounded... myopic i...
    shrapnel 'oi! over 'ere!
                     painting and... laying bricks...
contra...

  hand-saw? well... that could be up for
an oxford dictionary consideration...
the first stage is an inquiry for a hyphen basis...
hand saw has to make entry as: hand-saw...
before it can tease... the german...

    hand saw / wood saw...
                      either way: shrapnel at first:
petition to the oxford dictionary:
it might get a hyphen: precursor to the proper
compound...
                       handsäge / holzsäge...

handsaw / woodsaw...
                   umlaut adam-isch:
ä - yes... sage and thyme (surds of bindi) -
and rosemary... sa'g'eh...
    rose mary: rose-mary: rosemary...
                   all that is required?
a plural article and a pronoun:
    i saw hands!
                        past participle of: seeing...
a mime!
            and no mimic... eh?
tough little brandenburgian-chesnut to
swollow: since: the proverb states:
if the swallows are flying high in the sky:
no chance of rain for tomorrow...

i tried to dissect a liter of bourbon
into 4... the best i could get away with was
a portion of 3...

the old germans and the new germans:
the prussians...
and the otherwise shy germans
of austria with the hungarians
in their bosoms...
to remember: when the prussians
and the lithuanians were the last
pagans of europe:
and the teutonic order...
having pickled barbarossa went back
home...
where to: mein herr?!
east: north... tease the rus!
           such is this old matriarch
of a continent... i have no expatriate
sentimentality of the english
fior italy... or the new found cheese fetishes
of the ****** women for...
i'm so obscure when it comes
to love affairs with the p.i.g.s. -
well... yeah... even greece...
                    rozpierdol mnie na serbii...
albo... macedonii... lepiej!
wrak na krymie! lepiej jeno nie wiele
lepiej!
    
      will there every come a time when
i'll fall in love with Warsaw?
        will there be a time...
when i pass through it...
   and not feel... like a paranoid schizophrenic?
east end of london...
    i submerge myself into what
a h. p. lovecraft couldn't stomach of
new york... and... no... none of that
eerie oddity of...

from under the iron curtain...
it's a make-shift of a sicilon veil and:
that joke about how copper-wire
was invented: two scots scoubbling
over a penny - stretching it...
and of course... the pandemonium
of the pill in rubber...
the hounds from under the iron curtain...
if only i was looking for
a marriage meme... if only:
most certainly - and love brings with it
that sort of certainty -

   you have to excuse me...
lost all ambitions to express a freedom
of speech with a video...
i much like kierkegaard's posit of what
writing allows:
where... is... the megaphone?
to write is to escape the often bout
of thought: beside the "narrative" of thinking
and its mingling with claustrophobia...

"too many" ukranians and mongols
in the parts of warsaw i've passed...
   and that... is hardly this...
disneyland of bubblegum and pink that
london provides with its...
deserving reach into...
how did the raj indians survive if not
bribe their way out with well-above-average
culiniary-skills?!
the spaniards and south h'american gold...
gold contra the spices...
blah blah...

ever hear a greek speak and forget he was
either greek or speaking greek
and think... outlandish of me... i must be...
speaking to a spaniard...
lisp signature 'ere... lisp signature v'er...
****-oh-little-me...
this world is too big for my little problems
and conquests of...
     propensity! it's like...
watching: four weddings and a funeral...
thinking that england, circa 1994...
was some sort of mythological land...

       i was ate... back in 1994... and i was in
Ęgland... yes: ******* liberals with that N
of yours... have your way with it...
Napelon or Nig()er...
bounce bounce: siamese twins:
twiTTing... giGGling...
                                                       gaLLoping...
     because... like... "never"..
   N-Dynamite wasn't a depiction of...
                        jeffrey dahmer -
the lesser: more sedated "if only" scenario...
"orthography": or a tux without
a bow-tie scenario...
because i still think of orthography as:
it would be desired...
to have some diacritical marks...
since... hydra: the hovering d(.)t
above... can be cut...
and there would be no clarifying certainty as
to a... noticed "difference"...
ȷokıng asıde... ȷust lıke so...

   mind's split: and the apostrophe?
a susan: i don't know...
well... cyrillic... please!

                Wojcicki (what's apparent)
                Вoйćıцkí (what's being revised; as...
                what's being: under- / over-stated)
    
         and no cyrillic! doubly please!

perhaps in exile - perhaps just scouting -
perhaps less an immigrant and perhaps
none of them: the above...

                             ottomans for supper?
anemic anglo-saxons for aperitifs?
                           right now...
                            "elsewhere" confirms
the same concerns for crux...
vector status as might: "being" and a "here"...
here: da... and now: jetzt...
                               clearly...
       some words as just pardonable in their
confines of english... they might as well
become relegated to the status of myth...
clouds... psychiatry and / or...
a spectacular gem to behold...
   not in real life... but in the acted
representation of a james murray...
                    
               this is hardly a medium to
bemoan... or to call forth lacklustre scrupules
of indolence... to breathe...
with these words... in a limbo of libido...
and what's happening "elsewhere"...
how shouldn't i pay a visit to a recess
of my mind... and make clusters of
a memory that erases all that comes forth
as... pitiable justice to further a hope
for eloquence... without all that:
of a desired / yet derided...
                                             etiquette...
the straitjacket contra the liberal arts
of attire... the catwalk seen-by-the-other...
the god the mystical "other"...

                    does... peeling an apple...
slicing it...
take away the joy... of eating it... with
each bite... with the skin intact?