The way
you talk about
it, you seem to think that
time really does stand still in my
embrace

if only,
I could
teach my
heart to love
you like a friend

~
black tie, bare feet,
a walk through dandelions,
following the scent of wine
and mirthful promise

phosphenes and paresthesia
—slow dazzle motif;
the bluebird of happiness
echoes in a shallow bay;
pieces of places to claim as theirs:
moth wings, flower petals,
and blades of grass

seduced by eventide,
unhurried mouth(s), lips searching
and soft, all words seem to have
a few extra vowels;
sudden ubiquity
to collisions and slippages,
cultivating suggestive shapes
from aleatory arrays
of objects and forms

in the surf they mingle and link,
emancipating adrenaline;
they love like they were
water for life
~

you invented anger and laughter
a cry and a smile
one side is heavier than the other
but don’t ask which one

and funnily enough i’m holding hands with myself, again and i crafted narratives of secrets and regrets, again and why are we so drawn into things that only YOU understand? again!

You worship at My shrine and give
Your sweet and labored love
You tell Me “i’d give my whole life to You”
And “I only want to be held by You”
I look down and swallow it whole
It is not enough
Though ripe and plump
And full to bursting
It is not enough

Is it fair of Me to ask a mortal to feed My thirst?
Is it fair that I look for a different taste
A better fruit then what anyone can offer
You built My temple and made Me whole
But it is not enough
And your fruit is simply too sweet

If I demand you to wait
While I look for a better taste
Would you?
If I told you to kneel
At My holy shrine
Until your knees bleed
And your fruit rots
I know you would