Do you see how see never look twice
Before crossing the road
Or how she holds those scissors
In her hands
As if wishing for them
To cut through her veins

Have you even heard her cry?
How her voice breaks?
Yet she makes a joke
And laughs as if nothing is wrong
Have you ever noticed?
How she never winces
If she gets hurt
How she never puts a bandage
On those cuts

Do you ever think?
Why she never sleeps at night
Why her poems rarely rhyme
How she cut her hair
Above her jaw line
How she says she doesn’t care
But when you leave, she sighs
Have ever seen?

How she never meets your eye
How she keeps smiling
Even when telling something
That’s not even happy
How she closes her eyes
For a bit too long

How she bites her lower lip
A bit too hard
How she no longer writes
Long paragraphs of love
On friendship and family
But all her poems
Have one thing in common
They’re sad In a way
That won’t make you cry
But will make you think
What’s wrong with this girl?

My dear,
Have you ever heard someone cry?
Without making a sound
Without shedding tears
Have even seen a wolf howling
For a moonless sky

__

Poem by Aditi Singh

So here's the mature
expression of a catch
flopping on deck.
Who could bear the
promise of more, from
where this one came?
Grin, multitudinous and
mawkish--an ungraspable
slick silver verse stuck to
puckering lips.
A face grown flat, by roles
played in common waves,
eyes placed for scanning
both sides of the sea.
You've even succeeded in
making Jesus seem fishy.

listening to hightide pile it
on thick thru mind, thrusting the
shoreline before it's submerged.
i close eyes i never knew i had,
the tongue hits the roof of the
mouth and a poem recites it-Self.
where went the house of worship?
the rigor mortis of a horseshoe
crab stuck to a boulder...tail
pointing cloudward.

I haven't given up on love.
It's not that.
But...
there's something in the way the night hollows out the heart,
it's like being sculpted.
It holds less sway over my thoughts than it did when I was younger.
I wait for love.
Yes, yes that's it.