Sweet talk to me babe,
It’s magical,
sweet --

Nothings whispered in my ear,
Your fingers find mine in the darkness
And I can feel your heart thumping
Through the surface of your skin

That feels like soft petals drifting on a spring wind
Windy days are the worst
I feel light enough to be blown away
Away from you and from the past

Past the houses, people, love
Of the times when I was truly happy
Happy that I was not happy
Happy that it was imperfectly

Formed through the few months I knew you
But did I know you? I didn’t
How can this be true
I loved you
I really did

I can’t do this
I can’t write anymore
I feel the pain from you
And tears welling up in my eyes
And now I really feel like
Maybe there’s no turning back
Maybe I will be stuck like this forever and ever
For all the things I could have done and didn’t do
Because I was scared, naive, stupid
Not good enough
I’m never good enough
Not for myself, not for others
My crushed dreams wilt in my heart
And cry rivers of blood
They threaten to choke me
When I least expect them
Someone help me
I can’t get out
I cant
I

you smear haldi,
groping the fish
like a beggar grasping at coin.
each fleshy slice
similar to tree rings
smothered in salt
and cast into the plastic
tuberware casket
blood still red near the bone.
already you fantasize
about every delectable dish
mustard seed on your tongue,
meanwhile, I stare at the eyes,
not queasy
but uncomfortable,
scales clinging to my shoes.

at every err
the rim of his voice ignites
a flame bickers at the edge of reason.

you see,
he casts blame
like the sun casts shadow,
each complaint
as complaint as a mother tongue.

could have, should have, would have
I toss the words away
into the tones of the sea,
and hope to pluck
resilience
from that same shore.

On the daily

yesterday she said:
you talk too much
please don’t tell
the truth,
your aspirations or your dreams
to anyone,
they just want gossip.

but -
today she says:
talk, why don’t you?
so rude to not even utter
a single syllable.
at least try to speak.

kilos of misunderstandings
burden my tongue
all her word taste of salt
that won’t dissolve,
but I wait,
expecting one day,
she’ll offer sweet wine.

looking back
we were a myth
children,
playing marbles in the street,
speaking softly as if
words could build a marriage.

she kissed him under no roof,
no thoughts could spring to mind
no code, no written proof
she told him she’s undefined

broken is his design, a world of possibilities
‘now I’m fully mine,’ a mind’s
desirability

The spark
Went out.
His eyes,
Two hollow lakes
Of black ink.
In them swimming
His demons,
Declaring that
They have
Won

I am your canvas,
Paint me with your colors of despair
Because I’m out on my own,
Setting little fires everywhere

Four months
Memory of unfettered times slipping

COVID-19
Plot or wet market accident, world plague

George Floyd
The fuse that lit the yearnings... and burnings

Protests
The righteous and unrighteous, weeping and burning

Rioting
Usurpation of the call to justice for terrorists

ANTIFA
The irony of the name is not misunderstood

Masks
Those damnable masks....

FaceBook
Blue Book for civil incivility

Statuary
Easy targets for cowardly mobs

News Media
Pick your poison; take your sides; everybody lies

Citizens
To fly the flag or to burn it?

Police
To protect and to serve; to spit upon and to abuse

Politicians
Demagogues gone wild

Jesus
"I have told you these things, so that in Me you may have peace. In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33, NIV)