interminable
as an endless circle
of coiled nucleic acid strand
without a protein coat
to hide in
so here you are:
i’m naked
like the moon,
causing the tides of your moods,
falling behind
the thick mesh of clouds
and reappearing
as a sliver
after total destruction
of another menstrual lifecycle
and i’ve noticed
you don’t see the moon unless you’re looking for it
or sleeping with your face under the open sky
its coming and going
passes the world silently by
that’s why my whole life
has been about finding
the blind spot
in the lover’s eyes.
Posted in excerpts
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what moved me yesterday was not the explosion after explosion in the sky, nor the coldness enveloping us in a tightly huddled mass of warm bodies. it was the way you looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time. or the last time. and i don’t know how much truth there is in the world, but so long you keep looking at me like that, my heart will long for yours.
yesterday was an annivesary in ways. 7 months, but more than that.
i was with X then, and with Y to an extent, but that night, a year ago, you held my hand in yours, warming it, holding me gently under the fireworks and the stars. a friend and no more, keeping me warm placidly yet wanting me wholly.
now i’m yours solely.
please burn for me still.
this was the poem i wrote for you a year ago. and now you know.
a drizzle of rain warms me up
like your hands on mine, polishing the silver
the ground not yet ready to settle, the sky – to erupt
and we are languishing in the middle
of the broken
reverie
I conceived with someone else
smiling in knowing
you’d carry my life on your shoulders if I let you
bequeathing me your last breath as a parting present
but how could I ever justify your love or lust
as we stand there under the unremitting gaze of stars
almost like an audience awaiting the typical finale
my heart so suddenly awake
wanting to take
all that you offer, grab it in handfuls
frigid hands clasping yours with the ferocity
that would make you bleed and leave crescent shapes
as a memory of my need
living signature of my greed
instead I leave you with a seed
of hope.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged after, ago, all, almost, annivesary, are, at, audience, awaiting, awake, bequathe, bleed, bodies, breath, broken, burn, carry, clasp, coldness, concieve, could, crescent, drizzle, else, envelop, erupt, ever, explosion, extent, ferocity, finale, fireworks, first, for, friend, frigid, gaze, gently, grab, greed, ground, hand, handfuls, hands, heart, held, holding, hope, how, huddle, instead, is, it, justify, keep, know, languishing, last, leave, let, life, like, living, long, look, looking, love, lust, make, mass, me, memory, middle, months, more, move, moved, much, my, need, night, nor, not, now, of, offer, parting, placidly, please, poem, poems, poetry, polishing, present, rain, ready, reverie, seed, seeing, settle, shapes, shoulders, signature, silver, sky, smiling, solely, someone, stand, stars, still, suddenly, take, that, then, there, tightly, time, truth, typical, under, unremitting, up, want, warm, warming, was, way, ways, we, what, wholly, with, world, would, x, y, year, yesterday, yet, you, your, yours
what made me think it was a good idea?
i think i must chase pain for its little thrills. there’s just no other explanation.
you’re not as fussed, though i’m not sure you know how much i love you. the problem’s me. again. and i can’t stop my churning gut from heaving.
fear is not a strong enough word to describe this violent smashing of glass inside.
i’m in a daze, a momentary lapse where all thought is illusion.
i pounded the streets by myself this morning. thank god for all his little offerings. i feel lighter now, somehow.
and i saw the sunrise today, but looking at the oranges and pinks merge, i felt sick. i barely slept: five hours of restless turning, waking and then falling into a half-conscious state, where dreams merge with reality.
and all because we went to your friends little gathering yesterday.
your ex was there.
it was all so last minute, i’m sure it was her that convinced him to invite us. she had it all planned, no doubt.
we had WKD and pringles and your friend’s mum’s wine and somewhere in between the truth and dare and spin the bottle all mixed into one, i kissed your ex. and so did you. and then you both laid on my bosom. my harem.
it was all jokey and fun and whatnot else, but it’s not how i approach my relationships. it’s not how i roll. and what if this pulls us apart? you felt guilty kissing her, you said. i didn’t. it was all so absurd i almost couldn’t believe it was true.
but it happened.
and we left just before clock stroke midnight, because i guess there’s a cinderella lost in me, and you held me tight a few steps away from the house and kissed me fevereshly. adrenaline of fear had washed our bodies: we could have kissed all night.
and i don’t regret any of it.
so why do i feel so broken inside?
Posted in chapters of my life
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half my life, i’m freefalling, the other half – looking back on the sights i’ve seen in those few moments before my parachute opened, before the maddening rush of adrenaline was curbed by my safety net, the soft fabric above me saving me.
you are that fabric – the fabric of my life spun by the yarn of your love, by the generosity of those hands turning the spindle.
all because you feel responsible for me. or maybe not.
in the end, my life’s my life: a merger of past faces, names, soft hands that once caressed my skin or longed to do so.
and you.
the thread of you’s the thread of me. and i want everyone you know to love me, unbearably, exquisitely so that you know the worth of love. so that you can count broken smiles knowing something inside them breaks for me.
an only child, i knew how to be painfully selfish. i learnt it well, my only teacher – solitude and parents’ love. but here i am, sister in tow, and still that only child rhetoric lives on in me. so once in a while, i feel in need of broken dreams of others to see my hope reflected in those pieces of looking-glass.
and if you can’t blame me who can blame me?
my friend once told me i was cruel to boys, to men, male counterparts. that i was cruel because my skattered gazes never solidified, my touch was soft but vapid, my hands gentle but uncaring. so what? i said it’s my revenge.
and so it is.
as sweet as lemon sorbet melting on my lips.
Posted in chapters of my life
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as if by reading of my past flawed ways, i am rescusitating them again. and i wish this was nothing more than a metaphor, but as metaphors go, this is a pretty literal one.
and so i’ve gotten myself another admirer.
it wasn’t really a choice, but then again, maybe it was, if only subconsciously. still, the fact remains – somewhere between yesterday and today i’ve gotten myself another admirer. the blond clever boy, the replica of the image of my past perfection.
but that was before you.
and it was all so innocent, this realisation that yes he was interested, that yes he was looking at me.
but even in the realms of innocence, darkness resides. me and him shared this moment today and it was all so goddamn innocent.
but it didn’t feel so innocent at all.
just a momentary smile shared, his presence next to me continuous for two hours, maybe three, but it felt like we segragated ourselves from the rest of the group voluntaily, clawing back privacy.
privacy?
why do i want privacy with him when i’ve got you? why was i toying with you when i had no right to?
when i am yours.
and so it goes.
and what’s worse is, he doesn’t know. doesn’t know about you.
.
sometimes i wonder why i do it all, this inticate web of people cumulating at the heart of me. shareholders in the bank of my love. and it’s all fair: the more you invest, the more you get back, yet logic is not there. flawed reasoning.
flawed.
but you protest so little and allow me so damn much. you’re scared i’ll run and so am i, my love. that’s why i justify my every word, my every action, my every momentary lapse into darkness.
and we both know i’m justifying some sort of betrayal.
but we daren’t say a thing.
Posted in chapters of my life
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glittering soot on her eyelashes 