The Tongue [of love]

These aren't the kinds of matters, ours aren't the least fragile of hearts
So to give in and say in love is in vain,
what spills from our wrists when we touch
must come out of our mouths, for each other to welcome in the open canals
That we hear, not the screaming for the sake of something else
We lean before we leave, a moment it takes to agree to trust each other
We create this room all the time, we have now, we decide how and give space
to say or not say
You are stranger on the street, I am speechless without a thing to say
I don't doubt his love for me, with caution for words move forward
We grow more loving this I know because I feel what I know and need not say
Because what language is there for love but love anyway?

twice your elder, big your heart

a whittle poem for why not?
Wildflower, golden, ripe is the
sun, bustling
boiling over my cold heartache
(from sometime last summer)
though the feeling is familiar,
what was once cutting edge and just
shattered
my eyes glimmering, blinking to my heart-
beat, more than years and counting

if i could (t-mic speak out)

maybe i would say:
if i were someone else,
perhaps it'd be easier to speak out
if only the words spoke easy
and time were infinite spans of short
but only you know of this voice
worth speaking up it comes out, in,
three short breaths cause i have not
yet found the tone
dial up, spark it
this rooms all stale, a cigars musk
won't leave this room
on lanterns or in a hurry
i don't do the "what i was worth" dance off
instead i tip toe, gracefully towards the door

Otherwise September 23, 2007

23/9/07

I like the silence between us

The desolate space hangs 

in filthy air, it hits my leg

I watch the cherry turn to ashes

How often single units turn 

to multiple

Just like people

We divide and force the 

things we carry home

by distributing what we

think,

How we feel 

And we share it,
who we are.

feelin, achin, clenching: prior a 3 martini-full, self-fulfilled, Fantasy

my body stressed out
all ideas lost unto you
but i know better than to submit
myself to drowning
in the five glasses of water
you left me - half full
abundance? no,
trust
in you
you will not stay, you will go
you are no different
to me
i've downed every drop
yet, the h2O reminisces
the glass is part empty,  still-
life is mine to call whole
you come back around
for the next round and
again, it's last call
relinquishing any doubt
the present moments my own
to claim this glass- half full

chosen ones

so we choose to engage
soliciting the gifts we bring
sage to place on the alter, we even joke to entertain the joker,
we promise to line the closets before selling
our gifts, we offer perfume scents of glory and mysticism
stories that we will never live
for life is but one sit in, once the chance passed
gone
so we make an agreement and we settle
that's that, i suffocate on the arid fresh
my freedoms won, condensed
upon sheer faith for the altruistic
annul the pessimist and believe
that this one i can get on
this wagons got a string and i'm the only one carrying
on responsible engine, exhaust

fragile, fractures, fixings

hands are delicate these days
rough at the surface, rigid edges
i'd never known it to be like this
i never know you to feel so good
be so real
tender moments precious are these
to consciously see the beauty is everything
no longer beat
over head backwards
what are these things i can't possibly seem
lovable, lovingly, enough
but they turn to remind me, in turn
sheds my doubt
but what are these to succumb to
if not you, if not me.