muffle every groan
and moan,
                     and whimper,
                                                 and sigh
with your mouth on mine

silence, your silence
is not a void — it is a
warmth I come home to

the PARABLE of
the ALL-NIGHTER: "is sleep just . . ."

a SOCIAL CONSTRUCT

confession: I thought
the THREE-BODY PROBLEM was
an old ****** case

how many mails left
on 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 are too many — to
consider stoping?

I keep wanting you
and aching afterward — yet
I keep
            coming
                           back

bamboos sway and bend
in the moon's last summer light
we say our goodbyes
                                  門
                            ­      さ
                                  よ
                     ­             う
                                  な
              ­                    ら

words scatter like wind
and hover above my head
in a nameless cloud

don't be surprised if
my heart is at the bottom
of a barrel of
flowers and pointy daggers —
mind the cuts as you reach down

can life lose all its
meaning — and could there ever
be one without love?

I take this ring, a
sign of my folly — so I
can pretend I'm yours

I was up, thinking
were you ever woken by
                    rain, at 2 am?
then I wished I was there to
feel your arms wrapped around me

even my own eyes
deny me of my own tears
— what else can't I have

lost — yet again — like
the only thing I succeed
in is in failing

thank the gods we're in
a crowded room — I would've
confessed* where I stood

(*or came out)

peal my layers off
eat me up and spit me out
plant me — I'm a seed

they say looks can ****
but why does mine want you stripped
warm — and on my bed

focusing on my
pain is how I lose the hand
I'm holding right now

I kept you — like sand
in a bottle — then I gave
you back — to the sea

you hear my nightmares
because no one would take them
and you would tell me
you had one too last night as
if it's not mere chance — but fate

seated, my back rests
but calm deserted me when
you pressed my shoulders

now I know my type
— I keep falling for someone
who won't jᵘmp with me

if you're the sea I'd
easily drown in — I am
the sea-beaten cliff
you can safely wonder from —
of carelessly jumping off

infidelity
can be to one's own self for
choosing another
person's happiness over
being faithful to your own

ask me how I've learned
to crave before I've tasted —
and I'll answer not in words

heaven's gate closes
the longer I keep you here
sunkissed, on my bed

glorious rain — we
are a storm within these walls
made of two bodies

flowers and dried leaves —
these GRAVESTONES neatly ALIGNED
  just like office desks
    and cars stuck in traffic jams
      and spreadsheets with empty cells

I carry you with
me — heavy keys to locks that
I no longer have

your kind
of gorgeous
brings me
to my knees
so hard —
it shouldn't
be allowed

if you wish to know
me, start slow — I'm an image
still painting itself

not in my room — yet
out here in the midst of this
storm — I feel at home

head raised to the sky —
in a way, praying you won't
stop what you're doing

you ought to be hanged
for the way you stare — gold-framed
in a museum

the thing about it —
walking for miles with storm clouds
overhead is that
the sun becomes a distant
memory, and the shade — home

our days came with rain
the cold kissed my lips — I wish
                           you did it instead

right at that moment
when the sun disappeared, I
should've broke orbit
instead I stayed in place — stuck
exactly where you left me

treacherous are my
own thoughts — for they are daggers
I hold on the blade

will you call my name
again, the one with double
letters where yours have

I have what you would
call a sleeper build — only
mine is built to sleep

inside the tunnel
the clown made you cry again
I promise not to

YOU emanate GRACE
that to say — you're beautiful
would be           REDUNDANT

to those who told me
they did it for my own good —
I'm not good — what now?

if I end up
                   dead
to you,
             I hope you'll keep all
the green bones left at
the funeral pyre — show them
to me the next time we meet

keeping a secret
was a spark in my bare hands
'til it was  —  the SUN

ᴵ don't just undress me
unwrap me like a fresh bound
book straight from the press

ᴵᴵ then don't just kiss me
seek me for air and for warmth —
as you would the sun

ᴵᴵᴵ and don't just make me
feel good — savour me — show me
just how good I taste

I can explain the
concept of infinity
better than I can
comprehend the breadth and depth
of the space you have for me

up at 2 am
— chasing after something lost
like I'm losing time

for eight hours a day
I die at my office desk —
and then I drive home

you wear my shirt from
the night before like it's your
turn to fill my space

to savor and taste
where there was only hunger
just the night before