will anybody tell me if i’m missing out on life?
will anyone write me a letter just so i know?
and everybody seems to be making a film, a compilation of their thoughts right here, right now. irony is, i’m wasting my words on the wind, across the telephone wires that stretch inside my head. and when i am brave enough to speak my words out, they are spoken to you alone. what about the rest of the world? how will they ever know?
you made a film with your friends. i guess that’s what you do in youth.
me? i used to leave my colouring books blank for fear of spoiling them. funny me.
and whenever creativity came to me, i wrote the words, drew the pictures on scraps of paper. i still have some of them. little pieces of my mind written in quickhand. 
and though none of them relate to you, all that i remember of X is there: they are silent exultations, utterances of pain and dreams. they are free.
sometimes, i still wish i coloured those pictures in.
and sometimes i know there’s no use wishing: it’s all too late now. i’ve sketched my life out in this morning sunshine. whatever happens now was always meant to be.
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what we are in the womb is everything we’ll ever be.
take you, take me, take S or X or Y, letters galore. take them all, take some more.
we can never change so long the warmth and darkness implores us. and if we can remember the dreams we had, they’ll be all we ever know.
i’m a girl tying pieces of the puzzles together. they still fit and i still am an involuntary virus to a willing host.
i liked yellow as a child.
and i told you, if you ever lied, i’d cheat on you.
well, that’s not true.
i wish i were that simple. i wish you knew that the river of you runs through my veins, pushed up against all gravity.
and that’s all the physics i know.
Posted in chapters of my life
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your flowers withered
in the gentlest of the ways
petals dried in heat,
but languidly, with grace
heads bowing, browning
but staying whole, intact —
i wish our love to be this subtle:
shimmying harbour in the deepest blue,
waves of the desire hurling,
burning sand up in the night
until it runs like a sea of café latte
topped with strawberry sauce.
the colour of the petals of the rose.
Posted in excerpts
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i’ve decided, i won’t allow words to tear us all apart. and my pain shouldn’t matter. this pain is fleeting. and my heart will be beating into the next millenium, where loves bloom redder than cranberries in the bitter frost.
i said something important to you yesterday. via text. and i don’t know if you picked up on it. so many words get lost in translation from my world to yours.
i don’t believe that every little death brings one closer to life, but i do believe that every little love does.
and i have loved you inconsistently, wrongly asking you to love me as i wish. maybe you can’t love me with all the roses and the cards. maybe my loves are too extravagant for you. maybe i ask too much without the need for such. but i can dream.
and i will dream. in silence.
my dreams will burn and burn.
for three weeks at the very least, i’ll be perfect. and i won’t argue and i won’t bite.
so you can taste the cranberries as they were before the winter, so you can stop and wonder if i’m yours.
Posted in chapters of my life
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our fifth month together and all i’ve given you for our anniversary is a revelation of my secret admirer and some of the passion in me.
my english boy. the english boy.
have i told you i always searched for that blonde, blue-eyed and tall perfection?
you’re not blonde and he’s not tall. but it’s you that got me sussed.
if this was a myth, you’d be poseidon reigning me in and he’d be a young soldier, soft features made of marzipan. i, i would be a siren, luring with words and laughter, light touch of my fingers on his a cheek, my toes dipping through the waters of your realm.
so now you know.
and he’s got a girlfriend : clever, but not as clever as me; irresistible but easy. and i’m not. well, not the latter.
so hand me his head on a platter.
i’ll serve him up a game that he can’t win.
i just wish you didn’t know.
his anonimity was something sacred, special. one song i left unsung. so i’ll confuse you, make you doubt all i’ve told you. one can never be too safe in grips of love. and my love for you has spilled over the bank. a scarlet flood.
still, i will be a spy in the house of love.
but as a siren.
and both of you will see me and breathe me in. now that you know each other, you will do so together.
and S will join you.
three’s company, two is none.
Posted in chapters of my life
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glittering soot on her eyelashes 