Tag Archives: merges

words

words are emptiness
full and languid
deftly swept across a chasm.

we break it –
stale stolen bread for communion;
and drown it in white wine painted red,
where flesh merges with blood
and heart is clogged with lumps of fat.

words are just that.

Advertisements

87. my two plus two

we change. why do we do that? tell me truthfully and without needless words.
i spoke to you in a language you did not understand, in hope that your eyes would tell me what your lips couldn’t. in the end, your hands spoke, holding my flesh as if it were a vessel brimming with the very water of life.

i wonder how and why we have come to this river where the past merges with the future and washes over the present. more importantly, how did i leave Y behind with all his unread letters; and how did you find me amongst all the other grains of sand?

i’ve listened to too many sad songs, heard too many excuses and i spoke to Y on friday. 
completion.
he came out with a gem when i told him that really, i had never lied to him, never told him i’ll be yours forever. he told me that he never lied either. a lie is something that is said with the intention of deceit. clever boy. pah!
i stick to my two plus two: all my past hurt equals you. and i’m thankful.

and between the lapses in translation i’m convinced that nothing matters but me and you and your hands. they will find me all over again.