crash

i have yet to decide if you're black stripe
or golden expanse across my tiger pelt canvas,
it might as well be my blindness as much
as your affinity with shedding faces daily.
i am certain though, i molded residual tones
of your vocal footprint in my ear's choice archives,
that unless the silence vacuum-packs your tongue,
your mouth's innumerable armies of false accents
decompose into the siren song that led me to
spaceshipwreck.


2013.nov.14

away

black like a sunrise of you,
i let your hair trickle its lengths,
strand by strand,
against what little gravity my hand
had to offer.

if only this kind of forever
never ends.
but it ends ---

white as a line on a sun of you,
i let my touch wander and fade,
i concede,
to the snowfield of your thighs,
to petrichor
on the day after you
came away with the rain.


2013.nov.11

lethe

i like the way
the shadows flirt
with the overmatched
light across your face.

i don't mind
the deafness brought
about by noise (music)
in this little world
we found empty for us
to settle in.

i like the way
we talk with expressions
more than words,
we save sound in case
we need a scream
to cross the span
of this table wedged
between us.

i don't mind
that your arm slithers
around mine,
not committing,
not now,
not yet,
while you distract me
with your lips synching
to noise (music)
from the outside world.

and i raise a hand
to surface from under
this darkness,
a beacon to the sentinels
of the outside world,
i only ask them
for a glass
of what you're having,
and i like the way
the cold glass gently
infects my hand
with its low temperatures,
and i don't mind
the numbness,

then i raise said glass
to my lips and
i like the way
the liquid slithers
down my throat
in a tango of fire and ice,
i don't mind the way
the light falls prey
to the shadows waltzing
across your face,
i don't mind that
you now resemble her,
i like that soon
you will be her.

would you mind to have
your arms slither around
my torso now, i am
overmatched,
it is time
to drown me
in your music (noise),
take me to the shadows,
take me home.


2013.nov.05