What I Mean When I Talk of Love
the yellow-dimpled air has this milky chubbiness, tonight,
count dust from your stars,
my feet feel cold
homeward northbound background radio
flicking an orange-burnt tongue
the distance they sense,
from your smoky oesophagus
slacken from awaiting the 5 o'clock shadow,
i t s n o t d e n s e e v e n i n g j u s t y e t
that splashed against yellow
bleed from striving to listentowhispers about your
dreams arranged carefully,
in the twigs of
snapped easily between my
and my tin-eardrums
split from dreamingnutsanddragons and pint-sized happiness that fluttered around my
hearing your cycle click and stack against
the blue wall, a airy-pile-of-lightness-resigned,
bareblue wall, dareblue wall
has wept nights from longing to measure your finger-veins-like-leaves against my own
toolate toolate toolate
it's too late
for me to
for me to
grab green fingers and merge
all the sand has seeped through
each second is just a blue-green fluid,
every dream of walking with you falls
and the orange sun turns grey,
my mind turns away
my salvation lies in drifting away not
2. Too little salt, too much sea
sun-dried kite swept aside my
tear seeped linen,
your potbellied moon
to shine on my
sent me riding waves
when i asked for candy-smelling summer
sent me life beneath
the eye of storms in
sent me happiness
a ship in your glass
a prisoner-of-war stuck in reverse
your poetry like
while you slept
i detached your
upset the moccasin
spoiling garden wisteria
as, dreaming of sun-brimming
rattling chains against my heart
feeling too close to your
the room too small for two
when in your brown plastered bed
enclosed in nicotinised arms
happiness felt too small,
our carousal ride was
meant to be this
such a shame, thus,
my shoes that
fill with your
never quite reach
i keep your prized
hunger before happiness,
it stands with me.
3. Holding Up The Sky, tell it all pours over me.
The dust walks by me.
The feet kiss scraps of unhindered paper.
The wind grazes against the skin roughly.
And, I walk ahead.
Unmindful of what I leave behind.
Among the butchered silence.
My destiny was never bound to any place.
For there comes a time, once in a while, when the whole world outside is quiet, in waiting, and the only sound in the world is your heart pounding in your chest.
4. Till your shadow sets you free, you keep moving on, nay, you keep on moving.
On nights like this a heady concoction of distilled beer and fags are a welcome.
You think of a place, as you light up your cigarette.
You think of the past.
You weren't expecting it.
You weren't expecting the place to outlive your memories.
The place to survive your life and lives before, as you knew it.
You thought it will have been razed down to the ground by now.
For realities are harsh.
Time attains a stasis in perpetual transformation.
But harsher still,
You are surprised to find your past, eagerly awaiting your return.
You discover you've outgrown the place, in the end.
It has outlived your past.
Your memories are still aligned by the beaten roadside, glistening asbestos in the sun, reflecting your teary-eyed farewell seven years ago, forever on the lookout for that little girl who trudged the very path, clutching her parent's arms with tiny fingers, willing them to stop.
So she could catch one last glimpse, absorb in her insides that pristine moment.
I don't wanna go away.
It hits you. Now. Now that you've let it be.
Sometimes faster than places.
5. Dark beyond the blue, the yellow
Suddenly. Suddenly, this rain.
Defeats you, catching you in one unguarded moment, all vulnerable,
The hesitant shiver of skin, untouched, as it’s caressed by the water, cold.
The unwavering silence broken by the soft dripping in the end of the street,
The quivering shadows glisten below yellow street lamps.
Suddenly, this yellow.
Turn teary and oppressing.
My solitude is marked by the distant whistle of train.
This interlude of grey rain, drab and dreary.
6. Bonfires in Eskimo nights
brush aside bulrush-hairs-standing-tall
push aside yearlongdifferences,
i want to see it
bigjollyred maraschinolittlecherry moles adorn your
show me how
fill arms with pulsating-brimming-happy-glands
let it glue my wrists
to where my teeth imprints a cicatrix
guide me to surrender while wrapped across your
acne-sickeningblotches-balloonsofblemishes painted epidermis
teach me how to spell l o v e on yellow-scaly-palms
can boast of our
spread across the puzzle of intertwining-tendrils of our
a little haven we strive to keep safe from
though not quite the frenchdoll in the mountain of your
taking in your sorrow and cryptichappy-spitbubble-sparkling in
i can smell the distance between chasing-galaxies within our-arms-resigned-to
so we can end it,