If you nip it at the bud
The bees will be starved of nectar
The flowers bloom, only to wither away

© Amitav (Radiance)

We dropped by
in the VW bug
along the Malibu coast
for just one evening.

She wore green satin
and pukas,
had her dreads plaited neatly
& she lit candles
under the smiling moon.

We burned nag long
into the wee hours
& in the morning
we were gone
like her,
as beautiful as the surf.

Here is the line I draw in the sand.
Here are the words you spoke to me.
Here is the complete detachment of care and empathy you've shown. Here is documentation that I'm going to be alright.
There-
is the place for you in my heart.

Why do you focus on the worst in us?

These are my lips still untouched
by how much I thought you loved me.
This was the motivation I used to show you my world.
These are the walls that saw everything, here and there.
These are your letters collecting dust.
This is me staring at the place where you were supposed to be still standing.

How could you let me go?

Here is my realization.
There is your pride.
Here is the phone that won't be ringing.
Here is your realization.
There is a year gone.
Here is one of those other fish in the sea.
This is how quick I can rip that band-aid off.

Where are you running to?

This is the image of me.
The lack of my being in your life.
There- is the fading reminder of who I used to be.
This is how strongly I loved and believed you.
The only (  ) who did what ( ) did. There-- (  ) was.


This is the love that still stands.
The love that forgives and never forgets a second.
The place in our hearts that can't be filled by anyone else.
The love that knows no limit.

Here is the clock ticking, recording it all.

Here is how quickly I can rip that clock off the wall.

-r0

intention never went far
down the road at the
end but then again it
never did in its youth either
through the years its only
idea of excitement was the
thought of maybe being
young again in the future

~

Say cheese


I don’t recognize my footprints anymore,
flash bulbs and dusty breaths
distort my sight and laugh
I barely recognize my name
as if anyone might call
on the gusts of barren life that hit me full force

Lost in a silent thought  
bouncing from shutter to shutter
blistering paint and chipping sorrows
outside the windows, smeared of tears
resting on cheddar sills
reflecting unknown images, as I stare

Photographic headlines swing on wire fences
twisted around dreams and laced with unforgiving pain
rusting in the rain, falling piece by tiny piece
until words read like fragmented sentences
in amber speckles on the walk,  
asking me to believe

A three legged cat begs for a mouse,
yet the only thing held in this trap is me
folding another fitted sheet (I hate folding fitted sheets)
as Tripod claws at my leathered skin
trying to erase the scars, captured in the lens
which mocks me…say cheese