How you have unfastened yourself from me molding red clay in many shapes.
Relentlessly fashioning versions of thing after thing. How I distort in every mimesis.

What you are looking for refuses to be found, though you spread the red everywhere.
Futility becomes of your fingers, too nervous for sewing.

The frequency of this life distorts on you, and you see less and less.

Sole star of sky, unthinkingly, in the dye of yellow, verses you in elocution.

Parody to mutable earth, shall the shadows of stars turn aside?

Belonging to time has its perilousness. In fervor you have underestimated the vulnerability
of the infinite.

We too have wounded, and been wounded.

The heart wavers at the threshold of an uncommon door.
Imperceptible boundaries have multiplied like trees.

How to be water. How to be, they seem to say, stretching small arms in every weak direction.

The angles have become too much for me.
Time is what I ask for, so I may ***** my words for a certain moment.

How unthinkingly you have carried on into an isolate realm.

All worlds pull from me now, as though offended.

I need to say, the evening with you was the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time. Watching the performances, walking to Kaldi’s our steps and gossip wandering about together, singing show-tunes in your car, being vulnerable to a person we barely know, and watching Broadway Youtube videos; you just feel like we fit.

I need to say, It’s tomorrow morning now and I haven’t had you out of my mind for a moment since we separated. I want to spend countless more evenings feeling this enraptured by your company. I want to build you a castle of experiences, filled with treasures of memories better than these first ones made last evening; and the evening’s were pretty stellar.

I need to say, “I’m crazy over you.” I think you are more beautiful than the sunrise breaking across the sky, and more comfortable to be with than a favorite pair of pajama pants. I’m feeling so much, and so much intensity. I want time to draw us together. I want to  become the one who kisses your lips. I want to be cuddled up with you on a couch sharing a lazy Sunday. I want to be your biggest fan, cheering you on from the front row when you perform.  I want to know your people and be your person.

I need to say, the hug in the passage between your dining room and living room where I held you and was held by you was a perfect singularity. I could have dissolved into it, were we hugging or were we dancing? I want to think it was a dance but neither of us knew the steps. I want to learn the choreography, to feel the artfulness of gliding across a dance floor in partnership that’s safe. I want to pull you in, hold you close, take three steps in unison, spin you out to watch you dazzle, then draw you back again to reunite and prepare for the next bars the band will play directing our movement together. I want to become your Fred and you become my Ginger. Or perhaps not, it could have just been a hug because you just needed a friend to hug.

I need to say, I will not ever send you this. I just don’t know how to risk saying all this. I wish you could know this: that you could hear these words coming from my mouth. I want to hope you felt all this too. Yet I live inside a mind that colludes against me, and the risk of these words is crippling. I don’t want to retreat, fortify a secure position, and avoid the perilousness of something amazing and new. Yet that is my modus operandi. I wish I were the person who could announce such a proclamation of your enchantment. I want to actually feel that 1000 anxieties accompanying  the chanciness of speaking these words to you; because there was an undeniable elegance to the easiness of how we click.

I need to say these things I type. That however is just not me. So another bottle of regret will get added to my emotional cupboard of elixirs I will never get to taste. Before I stock this away to be misplaced and gather dust on its shelf I needed to record it here; just to let the magic of what could be fill me up at least a little bit.

Tell me the way home,
where the roads were so familiar that they knew your deepest thoughts and darkest secrets
where the buds of romance were crushed softly before it blossomed
where we built our chimerical future with unbridled hopes and aspirations, unbeknownst of their imminent failures.
Tell me the way home,
where we would hang out in street as imbecile loafers and other times as holistic thinkers tackling world’s most bewildering mysteries
where we were first had our lapse of judgement and succumbed to temptations and other times, we resisted with unflinching and unshakable resolve.
where we felt magnanimous in spite of our ineptitude,  
where we felt illustrious even with our lackluster lives
Tell me the way home,
where there was never a dearth of persiflage and lampoonist sense of humor quickly followed by inundation of camaraderie
where we fiercely fought for the last morsel of a snack but were willing to sacrifice all for the other at the slightest hint of perilousness
where we rendezvoused near abandoned houses and spent hours and even time stood still and listened to our banter.  


Now that I am home,
I feel like a stranger from another world.
Gone are the streets that knew me.
I feel in alone in a city full of unknown faces,
And the condescending neighbors with benevolent intentions
Are replaced by morose traders who will even peddle their souls.
Malls and concrete paths have replaced,
those narrow roads where we walked silently yet our minds spoke our dreams.
The home that has shut its door on me,
And the key is lost forever.
Pray take me far away from Home.