I'll be up at five, so I can leave by six. For this rare occasion, I won't hit snooze. It does not matter that my bones are creaking, and my eyes still craving some sleep because a longing heart can defy anything that's making me weak.

For love, I will ride motorcycles, and respond uncomfortably to men who do not need to know anything more than my name, and where I'm headed. We'll hit the road obnoxiously, and take turns on unfamiliar streets. I will put all my faith in the helmet I'm wearing, and in humanity, while I hold on for dear life.

After a dreadful ride, I will step foot inside an unfamiliar building. I could place a bet that I'd get lost inside because well, it's me. When I finally find my bus, I will hop on anxiously. Yet, despite everything that's running in my head, peace will come to me.

It will come in the way the early sun lies in the palm of my hand, its warmth, melting away my worries.
And from the pair of bright innocent eyes peeking from the seat in front of me.
Calm will come from watching the bus slowly fill with passengers from the city.
Especially, from the thought that all of us are headed somewhere for a grand reason — for love.

Dread will become anticipation and anticipation to plain excitement.

I will wait patiently behind the soft murmurs of strangers. And when the conductor finally hands me my ticket, I would think that I could do this as often as you want me to.

In my seat, I will sink with both childlike wonder and a new sense of independence. There, I will find joy in all the unfamiliarity.

The ride will be a cycle of seats getting emptied and reoccupied as the bus traverses through cities.

And when it gets emptier, I will tell you that I’m almost there.

We’re playing the long game.
We share things, we’re lovers,
we slip in and out of each other’s lives
like jackets hanging on the back of a door.

Relationships are like instruments,
they must be played, kept in tune,
the carnal and the corny balanced,
carefully, like sections of an orchestra.

Sometimes, I feel that I have to bring the energy,
BE the entertainment - and I can do that - in spades
but not forever - I’m not a tireless-giver - in fact,
I'm atavistically Parisien (we admit loving nothing).

I’m learning that when a relationship’s conducted,
at great remove, the basics - like punctuality,
dependability and preparation - become a big deal.

When I’m in an optimistic headspace, I think we can do it,
maybe, that we know what we want and who we are.

That we’re playing the long game

I don’t think I could tell you of ease
But I see you across from this sea in between
Shifting in your seat, nursing a dull ache
I know that feeling all too well
But I don’t want to tell you about it
In case I may come across insensitive
Because I’m trying not to shift this center of gravity
We both share in desperation
And tip us over the edge
We didn’t dare to wonder about
But I never learned to swim
And this sea in between
is filling up my lungs
When did it get so hard to breathe?
I call after you, under my shallow breath
I see you for everything  
Hoping you see me too
But this heavy air we drink
Settles in your shadow and mine
It spells out gracefully
That the spaces between us
Are built out of love
And so, we go on
Paving distances
For these descending clouds

our eyes meet
and in that one moment
time seems to crystallize
every movement fractal
every last piece of me

falling
       into
  place

but I blink
and your memory fades
fast as it was dreamt of

Thirty four days of delusional bliss

Thirty four ways to greet the abyss

Thirty four shock waves, to the cruelest brain

Thirty four days of irreparable pain.