i want to be your sun
the reminder that all of those demons are gone
i want to be the one
who you yearn to see at midnight
i want you to grasp my wrist at dusk
pleading me to never leave at twilight
no, i dont want to be your moon
i dont need a ball of fire behind me to shine,
no, i dont want to be your stars
there is only one me that you should find
i am more than a silhouette of something shallow,
i am not that broken to scatter all around your black treacle
but i want to be your constant dose of relief
those demons behind your face will vanish because of me
yet you always seek for those **** little twinkling dots
because there is more of them
but i am also one of them, why can't you see?
it's probably because your eyes burn when you look at me.

I just need to close my eyes,
Hug myself,  dance for the song in my mind
The song once you sang on that long drive,
My steps halting,  as you stepped to my side...

We moved together like breeze; effortless,
We moved together like blaze untamed,
We held each other,  like insane,
No strain or stir,  pure music in our steps...

A cloud burst, unearthing us,
Carrying us to an undisclosed haven,
Your breath on my hair, the warmth I felt...
Our breath in sync,  we swayed and held.

Was that a dawn or dusk, when we met?
Was it shining or dowdy as we were swept?
Not a drop of water or a grain of food we took,
Our bodies paralysed,  yet we stood...

Time elapsed,  a day? a month? Or a year?
In a trance we stood by each other.
The earth sped,  we moved together
Faster; yet slower than ever...

With dusk on your eyes,
dust on your heart.
in the forever unreachable horizon,
In your shabby suit.
full of your worn body,
you let a sigh  loose.
Exhaling  invisible cartwheels of air,
as the desert stretches
out and onward.
Feels as if the sun is ready to swallow
you whole.
grey fine hears spit sweat beads,
on the run to the ground.
where the dust devils dance and die.
In a purgatory of sand.

Altogether, the night we wove
a trickled treasure, tangled:
skirted legs spilling out from
the teacup of a denim lap,
validation in the vacuum cove.

- Dusty Nikes before the dusk,
who art in heaven, my god
he thrusts.

- Why'd your mother
let you talk that way:
You smoke cliche cigarettes
in such an unfamiliar way.

- The hanger left welts, weeping
into post-relevance landline love,
body lay like the hands on the clock,
copper landmarks seeping.

What a feeling, ever so same.
Arched eyebrows, a trademarked shame:
like a fighter, like ****** oozing.
Like a functional inability,
divine in its losing.

Dusk has fallen,
And the day is done
The sky is receding,
For the night has just begun

Dusk is busy with her daily bit of frenzied painting,
in the western horizon messed up by dark, fat, nimbus
with an intense wish to make it look strikingly different,
from that was in display yesterday and the day before.
The colors appear in fluorescent flashes and in the next
instance changed in to mixes of more  ruddier hues
suggesting a separation, an invasion of black  night long.

The beating blue waves of sea are all red with empathy
and the sun is pleased to come down for an ablution
in a sudden change of mind, swims to self immolation.

from the windows, a mottled sky,
pink & blue, wraps across the western
hills of the valley. tararuas draped in
clustering dark white fogthrow, and
my heart ticks down hours, a handful
of round dozens, not even that.

the streetlamps flicker up,
a little glistening roll of sparks,
sweet, all at once, and
coat riverstone and the valley
floor and, of course,
tugs at strings. but i haven't
said anythin', just yet.

as typical,
will just disappear; as a
daydream evaporates,
come autumn.

though I know it's not right
but the way his skin caresses mine
and his gentle smile is very warm
the same feeling I get
when I prepare myself to dream
about the universe and its sunset
and I drawn my curtain
as the night falls upon me
like I fall for him
cause the way his skin caresses mine
and his gentle smile is very warm
like the shimmer light before dusk