quill

i cant remember your face




yet your grace
how your hair interlaced
how it made me haste
every time i gazed...




...i remember still
clinging like a dead agapornis' quill





or maybe i do remember still

learning

the giver of the beggars
the shelter for the drifters
the mender of the broken
the speaker for the unspoken

it is far too easy to fall for you
so teach me aptly the thought of not having

…or else take my hand

exit wound

i wish i can tell you everything

when you smile, the world turns a shade brighter

dear adored,

you did to me what only rainbows could do to others
you made me think about the thing that matters...
about finery
about beauty
about you...

better than counting petals

I was thinking of you when a friend asked, “what’s in your mind?”
after a breath or two I replied with a quaint smile, “hope springs eternal...”

spaces

i stole a little bit of you and bring it everywhere i flee.
or was it you who stole a little bit of me whilst leaving my chest empty?

the world is just a composition of lines and planes highlighting you

he kept still and quiet tonight
overshadowed by a dim light
he speaks to me no more like the nights before
and the nights before that
neither a single word nor whisper
no stories about them, himself or her
not even a simple gesture,
just an empty stare, this man in the mirror