You smell like pure warmth, sweet and heady, like a muggy summer night just after a heavy rainfall; earthy. A wet cedar, woody scent with an undertone of citrus. You smell of home, a sheltered blanket of safety.

shadows entangled so it happens
the oppressor and the oppressed
such an intimacy of pain terror and shame
in the quietness of the right hand the left hand
surrender to the cruelty of an exchange
to be or not to be delusional
this is a question
reality just an approximation of a terrifying
mystery without meaning

a beat of a heart alone in the dark
we have many songs but still little understanding
about the growing shadow lurking in the bright light

Tell me what you want me to say? Tell me what you want me to be. I'll play pretend. If it gets you looking at me again.

A path of thorny roses
carved itself unto my skin.
I see her struggle,
her thirst and
desire for sunlight.

A petal falls
and blood trickles down my leg.

She fears that she will wither
before she opens up to bloom.

I gently caress the petal of the rose and whisper
is my pain of no concern to you?
My blood will not quench your thirst for sunlight.

Yet despite that she's nestling deeper
thorns buried
and aching
out of some form of misplaced necessity and desperation.

A desire to live, a desire to grow, a desire to blossom.

By the roots, I rip her out.

I am no means for her survival.
Nor am I afraid of pain.

any two people  coming together can be a game/life changer
but without intimacy they are only like
a fish without water a bird without air
leaves without roots dreams without a dreamer
this dazzling carousel of constant stimuli
this attack of never-ending newness
that spins the world is the ******* of  void
I dissapear from thought I dissapear from heart
I am just a message an unresponded voice
a poor sign without the depth of symbol
an avoided truth an impossible commitment
there is no time there is no space for giving and receiving
the most precious substance, our deeply lonely selves
the tears are helpless, here it is, have some void
it evacuates itself in language, oh, language games
played with much innocence,  and eagerness
I contemplate the void in mesmerizing eyes voices words
taking responsibility for  illusions the hardest bit
the body knows first about the danger left behind
by a theoretical love
only by entering the void I can feel it, oh yes
the ******* of emptiness is inside me, too

Reclaiming my time
From tequila to lime
Breathing the air, and
Pretending it’s mine

the dawn collapses sometimes under its own weight while
worlds of gestures are well preserved under the eyelids,
hardly random grammars, addiction to illusions,
the space of grace, the space for violence misued
muted tempos in the fragility of thoughts
we know many words but not the right language to talk to each other,
the vocabulary of hurt exploded inside narrow spaces,  the temple of skin empty
recycle bins full of our selves
we confuse the world with the contours of our pain

untitled the day sometimes
when love has left behind the birth of language