trepidation.
walk on eggshells. Don't make the wrong move. words are more powerful than you know. vanquished by them, yet again. Woulds never heal when written by a blade of sound.
walk away.
hopeless, forlorn. dejected and rejected. failure cuts a knife so deep. why. Never should make a person feel, this way. rejected. a state of being denied, shunned, dropped, jilted or abandoned. Drop-kicked is more accurate. through thoughts and feelings and walls of un-intention. Unintentional doesn't mean, unafflicting. It's not unconditional.
Up, down, turn around. Hide and seek, but words will always find you. Ominous. Noxious. Apocalyptic. Impending and inauspicious, never pending doom. Don't drown. words surround. Overpower and oppress, get in touch with loneliness. Inescapable. Better to surrender. words.
Immobilize. Can't even hear. Things being said, here. take out. shut off. take over. can't control. it's overtaking. seize power. let go. it'll never stop. Beaten. Buried. Conquered. No respite here. Weariness, none do care. Defeated, run-over. a dump truck of cruelty crushing, running over your heart. The soul is next. **** the heart, now defeat the senses. can't, survive. stressed and, suppressed.
The power of a consonant hath never been matched.
Rip apart, tear down from the start. People don't matter when reduced to mere words and petty emotion. Remove humanity. Steal personality. Nothing matters. Anymore. Disheartened and, Decomposed. Striped bare. unaware. doesn't matter, anymore.
forebodingly frightful. frustrating, feeble, failing, falling, faintheartedly framed. Fuddled. Flustered. No solution to this mess. no respite from such unbearable distress. The fright won't subside.
What a great terror, to be left outside. Alone. In the dark. words. tear, destroy. Shut out in the cold, still scared and alone. Abandoned and deserted. Desolate in a land of cruel misintentions. Uneager comprehensions.
Falling, no stopping. Fear suffocating any chance for hope. Fall.

Across the blistered gibber plain where flies die in the sand
Through swamps of prickly sago where rotting death is planned,
To stride in windblown tussock hills where wind vanes carved their say
To saunter groves of green tree fern where moa giants did play.
In clearings cut with alkali, tusked elephant would loom
With crevassed hides, Methuselah, once aged in terms of doom.
Whilst high above the rocky crags of ancient mountain high,
The keening screech of kestral soaring up to deep blue sky.

Heavy boots in crusted sand where tiny lizards flee
Amidst the rust red rubble of volcanic rock and scree,
To clamber up the ignimbrite, great Vulcan's steps of stone,
Encrusted with thick epiphyte in lichen's mossy home.
Up into the altitude where dark cloud clusters here
And the threat of rolling thunder indicates that rain is near,
Torrential in it's downpour with sudden squall of gale
Surmounted, all quite suddenly, with a blinding blast of hail.

Staggering to shelter in a tiny alpine hut
To find hot coffee on the woodstove and a curvy, hot young ****,
To find us frollicking together beneath a patterned patchwork quilt
Was quite beyond my imagination's comprehensions built?
And afterwards in slumber through the curtains of our room
I watched, in fascination, at a hanging, frozen moon
And wondered, in amazement, at the doings of the day
And speculated, sleepily, where tomorrow's prospects lay.

Blearily I stretch out from the covers, nicely warm
To nullify persistence of that alarm's intruding horn,
Yawning into morning I remove myself from bed
With panicked realisation....all dreams evacuate my head.
Vanished are the alpine hut, the dolly bird, the caves
The crash of rolling thunder and the plunge of mighty waves,
Gone are those phantoms which dwelt inside my mind
Devestatingly dismissed until re-dreamed another time.

M.
Pukehana Paradise
13 December 2014

SUCH an ancient wisdom radiating from HIS words
chiming through each syllable this wise, OLD MAN spoke
granting me visions beyond the obvious of my world
a time to uncover comprehensions that have not yet awoke...

KISS the man - the boy, then rip out his beating heart
eat his pulsating ***** as it fades, as it pumps, dripping its final blood
savor the sensation of terminated life gushing through your red, sticky fingers
watch his flesh, sprawled on the floor, die in its own flood

THE OLD MAN knew - HE could see through to the true me
though I had never encountered HIM in this life before
HE told me to, "**** the man, free, and
"Repent of all the years spent wallowing in monstrosities and sin..."

"LOVE the man before you rip out his heart
"Bite by bite, be nourished as he dies in hell
"feel his life-blood smearing on your face, dripping off your chin..."
all of this the guidance, all the OLD MAN had to tell

THE OLD MAN whisper-spoke with a cracked, arid voice
crowned tones birthed of a knowledge, a wisdom, the man never possessed
for all of this, I have cried, but now I am done
the OLD MAN, to me, also said, "now to be blessed..."

I'LL kiss the man, then, heartlessly tear out his heart
I shall shred it, destroy it, spit as I throw it to the floor
****** spatterings, glistening red, surround me
and it is by this end, le fin, that I'll reach out and grasp the **** of my new door

OR so the OLD MAN told me...

Chapter two

December 24, 1979;
This day or, should it be said, night… is the night a spark alters this heart’s understanding of a heartbeat with such desires which were never thought possible. After most have gone to bed; it’s 4 in the morning, Kelli, Julie .Joe and my-self were sitting up downstairs talking in Rose’s living-room, enjoying her lovely Christmas decorations.  Kelli goes up around four-thirty and Julie sat-up on the armchair by the archway; Julie was talking about things going on at her work. Funny enough, the only thing going through my mind is ‘Oh my, I sure hope you go up stairs before others begin to waking; I want to have time to talk with him by himself.
Finally, “Goodnight Uncle Joe!” and up the stairs Julie goes; It’s now, five fifteen, he and I are alone on the couch together and finally I could talk with him ‘til others wake or ‘til he tells me he needs to go sleep.  I would have been happy just having he be as a friend but knowing he was no longer with Connie… could heaven feel this near? We sit talking… I edge towards him; I feel a touch, his hand gently he reaches and then pulls… no guides …, for I more than anything want this to happen, to the warmth of his lips; my heart pounds as the taste of his salty-sweet lips rushes into my mind beside all the sensations his lips touching his arms give…tingling warmth, surrounding me, enveloping me?! I’ve never known this feeling before; such depths of wanting; of needing, of a desire to be here in these arms.
“Joe; Joe, Joey I love you…” Did I just say…???
“Don’t!” he says, “Don’t, this is a just for-now thing; but there’s no commitments, no responsibilities?!”  
I know why he says this… Connie?!  He doesn’t know, these words of his only make me want him so much more?! He has no idea how fearful all this is for me; these words, his words make me feel safer in his arms; it is safe here in these feelings I’m having?!
“If you want…; it’s your choice?! No commitments.”
“Fine.”
How could Joe know just how much he’s already a part of me?  I would never…  I could not say no.
How could Joe know how I’ve already thought of him; he couldn’t know how special he is in these eyes; how he has been long since a time before the 77’ blackout, back in summers-passed?!  On a day I was looking out the window, watching, Connie and him in the backyard working on his car. I held such envy towards Connie, looking out, watching the two of them, and ever since whenever I would see them together. If only; but who would truly want what I am…beyond my Chameleon’s mask? Dreams are nice to have but you can’t ride pipes all your life?! You can only live in what there is in this life.
Days earlier than watching them from that window… I had walked in-on Billy, the one I was with; he was in bed not alone they were in the midst of the most explicit acts?!  There weren’t any blankets on them and it wasn’t right away that they knew I was there stunned in the doorway!? This being something which one could never un-see?! And yet, I seem to be remaining?! A part of me already knew this about him but it’s just, I, never thought it would ever be in my face or who it’d be…I’d see?! Which as it turns out is what was most overwhelming of it all.  Billy was raised by foster-system and he’s been living with this man, Joe McAtamney, since he was nearly eight years old; you’d think… but no; No boundaries??? I thought Billy would be aged-out of this man’s wants…But no; and, to think several months earlier my dad signed papers for Billy to be my husband?! I ran from the three of them down in City-hall; I should have kept running?!  But oddly to say this little tat-a-tat doesn’t even close to being the worst of happening in my life; I was Billy’s first female … to think, barely, thirteen years old and next to him I’ve already have had years of expertise in the activity, merely on a physical basis; I did have no comprehensions on how to conduct or relate beyond that… not a real clue on how to be in a normal male/female relationship out of the ****** interactions?! And hell, as much as that was concerned lord knows I’d rather be clipping coupons???  I would have still been with Billy if it wasn’t for the loss of my daughter back in May of 79’!  Joe, Billy’s foster-father, rented Billy a Rockaway's bungalow I thought it was to keep him from being under foot but that’s wasn’t it?!    Billy’s foster-father and my mother figure in bribing Billy he would/could convince me to abort or if nothing else to give-up my baby if it comes to it. Most of April we had set up house out there in Rockaway; I thought he and I could find work, a place to live of our own and make a home for this baby. But no, every penny I could hide he’d find and spend; he’d have other boys over who are friends with his foster-father, like these are the people anyone would want around any child???
The last week I was out there, Pat Current was out there with us; I couldn’t stand this boy he was every bit the same as having my brother Kevin around?! You wouldn’t want to fall asleep in a place where he might be able to find you. A sociopathic horror, a ****** deviant and a thief; someone who wouldn’t have a problem in delighting in and/or causing other’s pain as a form of his own entertainment; Why Billy has Pat here knowing what he’s about?! I know Pat’s a time to time lover of Billy’s Foster-father but he isn’t here with him???
It was the morning of the 14th. I woke-up not feeling well; Billy and Pat said they figure to go down to the beach so I could rest and they told me they’ll  be back around one for me make them something to eat. They return only to find all those from the other bungalows along with the lady who rents them out were all inside the bungalow with me; they were staying with me so I wouldn’t be alone until the ambulance comes.  When the lady heard my screams she ran down into the yard and entered the door; I was holding myself up trying to make it myself to the front-door to find some help. There were ****** puddles all over and handprints over everything; there’s such pain and pressure I wasn’t able to move a step more. She helped me back to the bed. When I got to St. John's Episcopal I was all alone; nobody could come with me in the ambulance. By the time Billy arrived I was there about five or six hours has passed and she, my baby girl was gone.  The Doctor wouldn’t allow me to touch her, to pick her up or hold her in my arms. The doctor just left her next to me lying there cold and blue …exposed ; they had her laying there in an old metal bedpan; my child.  
Doctor, “When you’re ready you can get up and leave; make an appointment with your regular doctor for a hemo-globin shot.”
The nurse told Billy he needed to come in the room and get me out, he needed to take me home. He would not; he said he’d wait until I came out on my own.  The nurse walked over to me and she look at my face she could see I wasn’t about to walk away from my baby; she reached to remove her… I blocked her path I couldn’t allow her, to, to take my baby away from me?!  The nurse went over by the table across the room; she picked-up a small baby-blanket and return over to where we were and she made a shush sound and said it’ll be alright; she understood. She gently wraps my baby into the blanket and had me sit-down then the nurse placed her into my arms… the nurse remained by my side while I held my poor little girl in my arms. Touching her face, “Please forgive me for not protecting you better; I am so sorry…” I kissed her and, “I love you; I’ll miss you, always.”
The nurse held out her hands and said, “Don’t you worry I’ll take care of your little Baby Rose;”
“Thank you.” I left my baby there in the arms of the nurse and I left the hospital with Billy. We walk to the train station and we begin to head back to the last place in the world I want to go. He and Pat were talking about where they’ll be going to go tonight??? Billy turns and says,” If you feel like it you can come; it’ll be fun!”
‘??? He didn’t just say…’
“You can go to where-ever…” I looked at the two of them, “I’m going elsewhere?!” I back-step-it off the train at Broad channel the doors closed and I waved. I went to sleep that night in my bed at home on 66 Street. I couldn’t stand to have to look at his face. Afterwards, I was told Billy was rather happy that my little baby girl was gone. I awoke in the morning, first day back and things around here were no different. I went to Dr. Tierney’s office about the shot I needed and he told me I should never try to have a baby ever again; “You need to go on the pill and don’t ever allow yourself to get pregnant again!”
“No problem Doc… I no-longer have a boyfriend and I don’t have much luck with them?!”
“Easy said but only takes once?! Go on the pill; be sure!”  He writes a script and I go home.
I had a boyfriend before Billy; his name was John (Stretch) Thompson, its funny John was 6’4” and at the time I was only about 5 feet tall. He lived around the corner from the St. Sebastian’s church down in Woodside. This was back in 73’ he and I met at and worked together in the Burger’N’Shack on the corner of Queens Boulevard and 58th. He was night shift and did all the prep-work for the next day and they, the worker’s of the nightshift, paid me with eats and tips to clean off tables and to do quick-mops during the night; and, after John would finish his shift we would go over to his brother’s house. Both of John’s parents died back in 66’ and he lives with his brother and his brother’s wife. John went into the military… he told me when he returns we’d be married; eight months after John left his brother found me and he told me John was killed on his third day over there. I hadn’t seen John’s brother or his wife after that; I stayed around Key-food and carried bags to cars for tips or I’d walk with woman to their nearby homes with their bags. Big Frank, Little Frank and Denis allowed me to take out a store-cart from the lot so I could make money; Big Frankie, Oscar from the deli department and Mr.C, the owner of Big-Six’s Key-food, like me. And, the owner was also a very good friend of my Great-Uncle Patrick’s. It was sad John’s death but…  Move on; No-one the wiser.  This is the year the Dunn’s moved in on the block. Me, myself is odd, on my own block once more… act like every other kid! Even, when you see others who know different… you are a child?!  ...but not; silence is silence even in the loudest room it’s there. All you need do is to open your eyes to hear it.  To think, if it was that Norman Rockwell and Picasso were to blend their styles together…  Oh, how it would be of those on these blocks of Woodside?!
    Back then, for me, *** was an activity devoid of any kind of desirous wants.  For the most part those near my own age would get my delighted saying to them,” Cut it off and Brass it then put it by your baby-shoes!” or, if I thought better of the individual I’d tell them, “What you care to tell friends, who cares it’s your business, but there’s nothing happening here, don’t waste my time, or yours and go away!”
But here my being in Joe’s arms there is such a difference; I had never wanted, anything, anything with this intensely. We made plans to get together at the house once everybody has left for the day; oh, Wednesday.  Wednesday morning could never be soon enough. The last person is gone, everyone is gone… I open, closed the gate was up the stoop and inside the house before anyone could have ever seen me enter the gate. Joe and I chitchat a little while looking at one another… Joe repeated “… this is a just for now, no commitments, your choice… if you want…?  suddenly even-though we were nowhere near that couch the touch of his arms… the taste of his lips, the scent of his skin…  time melts; it feels as if he we hadn’t been away from each other a single second?! But here we are, now, with the hall-door locked, the decorations no longer being on; there is no worry of someone stopping us…and, we go into his room. Joe has no idea how, in this moment, being here in his room frightens me; it’s not him not a bit… it is these sensations of wanting… Joe would not understand, I don’t, how could he; Joe thinks me being more knowing of things like this?! No wrong, though he doesn’t realize these feelings he, now, is bringing out of me are all so new?!  Every breath, every heartbeat, and every gentle movement of his body against mine… his touch made me feel! “Joe, Joe I love you.”
“Don’t!”
You said; If, I want?  It’s my choice; …as-if there could ever be any-other.
  
Since then whenever we were alone together the feelings were the same for us; we’d drive around in the car talking then find somewhere to park enjoying each other’s company for awhile… just talking and having a wonderful time. And, then… a touch, one of us would reach out towards the other the sensations overtake and cause time to shift into its stillness and no-longer do our moments separate; the first… this… all of time bound within this sensation we share. But time, time never allows long…. It cannot when such appetites’ seem endless. He’d need to get home. I’d need to do things as well. We’d both need time to do what must… I would usually put up a fuss; many times Joe laugh,  he’d need to tell me he’ll kick me out the car if I didn’t get out on my own… I never wanted to be without… this sensation, these moments we share; I never want to know again what life would be without him.
Things between us remain; even after I told him…
I told him about having a baby?! Asking him to be the child’s God-father would assure  that nobody would think differently about his being close to child; I couldn’t take the chance of his not wanting me to have this baby?! And, he hadn’t asked; I was in bliss. If he had asked me I would have had to tell him. Is there any wonder why I feel the love I feel… we would still be together; but he wouldn’t allow me to be as insatiable as he made me feel; Joe was always so careful with me when we’d be together even in our most sensual of moments he was always mindful to keep the baby safe. I had never known; never experience such loving tenderness in this life as at this time being, held, here in his arms. Everything I am everything… belongs to him.
Until the day of June 28th.

Dig deep poet;
You too reader;

Commandment One:

Both must obsess to possess,
Air the curvature of each line
shape with two hands, creasing and
no ceasing not till the air waves have filled
your flushed face with compressed comprehensions

You weep as you compose!
Good!
The well of tears where hid
the pool of emotions
in cavernous reservoirs
in the center of your
gravity,
needs a daily tapping,
a draining, a purification,
a quenching sweet and
raucous

where you dig, salted water will come

in the soiled, imperial but imperfect body/mind cappuccino,
there are swirls of treasures, sins and histrionics
that need discovery, expiation, expulsion,
when~then, object is surgically removed,
accept surging water will desoil,
and you can revel
in the revelation
of honest effort

Debate Commencement:

reveal, which, what and how
much, how much? how much?
(this reverbs)
what must be shared,
what must be reburied,
what must be refuted,
what must be reconstructed,
refurbished,
and what must be
demolished & deconstructed

ah, but as soul judge,
you hold yourself to a higher standard,
but in all of this but two constraints rule:

the quality of the recalled data,
the quantity of storage space delimitation

do not tease us with rivulets, nor bury
us under thunderous rushes of memories
spilling and cresting with a reek of abandon,
unless, you’re abandoning the memory en tout,
giving us your newly orphaned all innermost,
then, we must accept the product of your labor,
whether it be spoiled fruit or glorious
                            truth

Tuesday Apr 16
8:32AM
(the year of pollard, a/k/a 2024)

an uninterested archaeologist studied the bones of eight
dead citizens who had a gradually tightened their grips around our dreams, tapering
as furling curtains swathed the incoming light, swirling, forcing it into nonentity
one would steer the ill-fated course of all.


bury the hatchet that was used to hatch you
put all of your eggs into one spermicidal basket
only the heavy-handed preamble to my funeral
could weigh against such lofty comparisons

we commuted to separated isles, each with their own emulation of truth
with cathartic perspectives, trees wait to abed in your predestined lynching
placing viney nooses into mother nature's scrapbook, a cherished keepsake,
your freckled dna, an infinitesimal page in her tattered cookbook

only in an afterworld will you be allowed to read your book's foreword
know that there is no snooty producer to create for you a cash-in sequel
they all watch you from afar, hungry, salivating
failing to make a distinction between your life and demise

their story's nothing but an interminable sad ending
a null conclusion with nothing to conclude
it holds its breath, crosses its fingers
hoping again to come through
as I placed defeat to my temple and squeezed

I veered into a claustrophobic brick encasement
colored with lifelessness, detachment
and learned infinity is combustible;
an unfolding polygonal paper
forever unwrapping

I've walked with wrecked leagues
casually entered fiery caverns
and the chilling daytime before me,
never is it compelling

I resigned my mind, contemplated grave comprehensions
redid everything, coughing opuses, deftness, drugged insight

my tactics turned to taciturn. no one was conducting
the open metaphor of your eyes, rendering
internal captions. endless captive renditions

my adoration:
the thickly-caked rust in the kitchen faucet
if you catch my spotty, deposited
despot eyes in direct sunlight,
you'll realize their dimness

staring vacantly
into oncoming traffic,
looming passages

I and you won’t be
Two unfamiliar women of our land.
I’ll not leave you to the radio
To swallow up our history,
We’ll have phone calls and photographs
Transported between seasons and changes
And barracks of old classics
Drilled in between our conversations.

You don’t leave the land, abstract-
Smell or your braced triangular family
But I, your daughter, a nomad
Demands change, unbuckled knees,
Thunder and lightning than a
Frozen damp lake.
I don’t know if this absurd let you down
Being a floating female disc
Without a silver hanging off her neck.

Your cotton sarees and senseless arguments,
Modest gestures and peripheral smiles
Walked miles with me.
My uncivilized ways and half assembled days
Somehow compromised your 7pm calls.
You didn’t declare an ownership
Or terrified me with protection
But your roots branches and leaves
Held me with an irresponsible luck.

You did want to walk with me,
Comprehend your traditions and family tree
But you grew obsessed over my books,
My anglicized friendships and father’s ways.
I don’t want us to wrap up stories
Let us be ‘us’, flesh and blood
Without English comprehensions,
Fork and Spoon-
The world is desperate to squeeze in between
‘us’.

I want to sit next to you every eve
Even when I’m miles apart
Sip your ginger tea and gossip with Leela
And I know you have more of
Mukundan, MT and Padmarajan
Jolted in between your memories
Wanting to be told, to be felt.

Retreating monsoons, half naked veranda
‘Shifting houses’ and ice cream spoons you lost
Bridged the gaps of a dysthymic brain.
Your diary and worn-out scribbles
Lifted an awkward silence, I ignored.
And I know there are plenty of
Conversations
Separated by a trigger.

Your four loud aunts and their-
Disproportionate-pinches,
The main house and its innumerable doors
And the single toilet your grandad possessed
Will always be ‘our stories’ with mango pickle
And little almonds
I recollect as your curfew years.

You need not worry, I will not-
Sit with bubbles in my mouth.
I can pinch your cousins and
Exchange few golden bangles.
I can walk the temple lanes with your-
Mother, silken skirts and jingling anklets.
And I know the family recipes,
The exact nicknames and garlanded gossips.
There will be days, get-togethers and
Photographs
Added into your prized collection.

A subconscious music flooded my psychology
When chlorine water, light-lit-days,
And flirtatious silly men
Swung in fine tune next to me.
There was always a detached-attachment
That translated a traditional ghost
Who announced a corner for itself
Somewhere exact I cannot pin point.

Let us not freeze the prologue
We can walk door by door
Between generations and blue window panes
In a coordinated tune guided by-
Voices of our ancestors.
The genes inside me needs a
Second hand journey
With-out an altered you and me.

Drenched fabled tales
Consuming this fall of ideals
A lonesome morbid sea I have yet to set sail
These unexploited comprehensions

Leeching parasites that simply rely on our fears
The worry on faceless projections

There's so much more for the world to know
The hidden truths of this demesion and the unknowns the next

i see people
they’re wearing those sneakers
i’m wearing those sneakers too
but i first saw them laced
upon my music saviors feet
in 1980 something
and not on the pretty girl's

her poetry is sad
i throw my head in the voice’s direction
i sigh
when the girl who mourns for consolation
claims ownership
they think she’s specials
beautiful broken
deep as the sea
i wonder if i seem just like her
i wish there was something special

i touched your back
as you cried
because i wished for your repair
you didn't feel it between all the other's
as they touched your back
filled with curiousness
searching for a cause of your woe

you declaimed your hate of the world
to me
i sat beside you
grasping your words
tossing them between the fingers of my thoughts
they sat beside you
anticipating their next turn to speak
and what that would lump consists of
feeling only a fraction of apprehension for your words
you thank them for listening
and not me

i wish the world turned on genuine intent
now it feels wrong and mixed up
to exist as i do
despite assumable unawareness
i understand them
i have no right to say this anyways

i’m scared because
i’m probably just like them
and maybe they’re just like me

everyone is different
are we though?
maybe we all have the same soul
just different comprehensions and articulation

i’m scared because
i’ll never know
i cant explain half the things i feel
nobody can explain half the things they feel

maybe i’m wrong about it all
we're all so small
it doesn't matter that we wear the same shoes

Our bond formed by fate can never be broken because with each rising sun you enter my dawdling mind and my heart begins to quaver like the birds of freedom
Too soon, the sunlight glitters
As the dawn turns to gray to gold
Her 'i love you' came leisurely
Like the monsoon pouring down on a cracked roof
There are fondness songs in her eyes singing lullabies
When she hover pin me down with her stare
There are love poems on the tip of her tongue
I taste while kissing her
There are good vibes that surpassed all tribes in giving off the positivity i need for my stubborn reality
For her meaningful silence
That gave me better comprehensions
I would dauntlessly lay out to her
That the way i feel for her
They say drowning is bad, but how about
Drowning in love?
I want to swim in the deepest parts of her soul
Above all powers off i float
Higher than all earthly treasure
To a kingdom without measure
Above all myths made stone
Vast than every regal throne
Wild night's that last through dawn
Rocking and rolling out in my lawn
She wraps one around in the cadence of her voice, like old songs one had forgotten about
I' am feeling the rhythm and melody of her sway
Divine ecstasy in pleasures
I am feeling so sublime.

5.19.2016-
From the touch of wind to the glistening feed of bright blue ocean waves surrounding my knees.
To the questioning of nothing off in the sense of when asking, what else is out there?
Neither bored or glimpsed of fairness in today,
left with remains of I am still here to make up my day. It might not make all the comprehensions in the world anymore to my heart when words whisper nothing but truth near my ears. Yet I understand now what it can be to hear ration. With this, and without swallow- I’ll let my feet wander back to the bright blue sky, back to the sea, once again feeling it for what it is. For what it truly is.

My only love after ages
I will run my fingers over your every scar and ask where each one came from
Our bond formed by fate can never be broken because with each rising sun you enter my dawdling mind and my heart begins to quaver like the birds of freedom
Too soon, the sunlight glitters
As the dawn turns to gray to gold
Her 'i love you' came leisurely
Like the monsoon pouring down on a cracked roof
There are fondness songs in her eyes singing lullabies
When she hover pin me down with her stare
There are love poems on the tip of her tongue
I taste while kissing her
There are good vibes that surpassed all tribes in giving off the positivity i need for my stubborn reality
For her meaningful silence
That gave me better comprehensions
I would dauntlessly lay out to her
That the way i feel for her
They say drowning is bad, but how about
Drowning in love?
I want to swim in the deepest parts of her soul
Above all powers off i float
Higher than all earthly treasure
To a kingdom without measure
Above all myths made stone
Vast than every regal throne
Wild night's that last through dawn
Rocking and rolling out in my lawn
She wraps one around in the cadence of her voice, like old songs one had forgotten about
I' am feeling the rhythm and melody of her sway
Divine ecstasy in pleasures
I am feeling so sublime.
I promise to spend the rest of my life by your side, to laugh with you, cry with you, to believe in you and support you. Together we are better than we could ever hope to be alone.
You literally mean the world to me and I love you beyond belief. You make me so happy every day. I can’t believe that we’ve come so far and it makes me feel so grateful having you by my side all the time. I miss you when you’re not with me and appreciate everything that you do for me. All the memories we’ve made so far have been so fun and i hope there are many more to come.
Your love taught me. 
How love changes the map of time, 
It taught me that when I love… 
The earth stops spinning.
Loving you is not only my passion,
But it has also become my sole creed,
Yes it is my unfailing duty, darling
Loving you is like finally be safe and warm
After a snow storm

Love is naturally overtime
It goes deep as it unfolds
with endless silver lines
and is sometimes dead cold
In my old own fiery Sun
i have seen love endure
the toughest of situations
lines of dark comprehensions
have seen you grow
a house to a sweet home
peace in sweet plenty
and a heart hardly empty

This is weird no?
I take it,
You don’t want to fake it
But have better things
To be doing
Than making
Me try to feel less
So alone
For so many
Days home
I was solely
Without you already
And though we’ve been further apart
In the past
There was just let you go
Or we’ll grow up too fast
At least once before
Can’t lead you on anymore,
Can’t eventually bore you,
We’re born to explore
And I knew one of your
Adventure
Caliber
Couldn’t wait idly by
And be my
Passenger
Like ambassadors
We represented conventions
Too grand in their narrative scale
Comprehensions
To ever let ours
So submissively sit,
Ponder it,
Then commit
To the lack of Movement