Tag: Uncategorized

Tongue-tied. We were once
bound by truth.
Held down with rings,
within no fairytale.

We roared with those fires
that fell to our eyes. Blinded,
under surges, with urges,
inside summer’s sting.

Starved flesh, made to bring
blackest guilt, upon
immaculate shoulders.

While you are
letting go, pale skin no
longer looks sick,
to you.

Once, blinded,
in light, in dark, being
reminded of something
we both forgot.
When you found clear skies,
at a different hour,
I remained scattered,
among grim clouds.

There, bound by truth,
with circles of gold
binding all, from wrists to
gentle fingers.

Here, I am bound
under a twisted oath.

There, you walk out,
spreading vacant words
from an uncovered mouth.

Tongue-tied.
A droplet, of fear
keeps me staying near
in cold memories that ever
move from summer
into a fever.

Fable this. Tell this
upon telltale symptoms –
you connect, among this
virus, called love, called
another symptom out
from someplace deep,
from somewhere
unconcealed.

You are this stain;
rain upon a crude
shelter, while nothing
moves. Each word
buried at their third
degree. Each smile,
all frowns, taken
to graves, into walls,
burned into dust.

To dust, coating your eyes.
To rust that stains your
fingers. To love that never
fades away. To loyalty
that suppresses its ways
from every day.

Insignificant. In memories,
among sculptures. There are
songs we sung. There are
flames that move.

There are shadows
that shift. There are
hands to sift. As ashes,
we have come adrift.
We have warred, without
knowing when it will
stop snowing.

Count raindrops, find that
tears will never stop
missing you. On this curving
path, we stay blessed,
with wreaths atop our head,
with eyes held to
a porcelain moon, our
lone shelter in this night.

Deserting ourselves to feelings,
to scars we unbind, unstitch,
while inside this temple
of worship, we kneel to implore,
to explore those sceneries
we have adored. This shelter,
a pair of ivory arms,
cradling us beyond sounds,
down into tearless sleep.

A moon. Twin’s memories.
Scars do not fade, under this
following shade. We are
among each other’s shadow.

No sun. No daylight to wake us,
thrilled at where we fell,
inside this shelter, where we tell
stories from painless pages.

I have been
watering this burning
garden, knowing little
that grief can do,
while you starve under
pressure. There, you
place rocks, around your
fate, inside a shelter,
wanting no warmth,
needing no embrace.

That mouth, those fingers
hushing words, on no tongue
that will taste a bitterness.
Here, I have taken away
all glimpses, of some sanity
I had hidden away.

We loved a little lie,
dying on that dark side
of a masked moon.
Faces with phases, combined,
telling our watching eyes,
more than our ears,
to believe in another cry.

Your turn to yearn,
for I have always listened
to stammering heartbeats,
under comforting bed sheets.

I have been watering
our garden of embers,
watching you escape into
some desperate light.

Have you ever faced an ocean
that kept our years, to its
memories, in motion?

Blanket those memories in
an enclosed heart, in a
stamped envelope. We are
finding our path, among stars,
watching passing debris,
never fading, so long
as we bear ongoing steps.

Our kiss brought rocks,
upon our eyes. Our yearning
came down, as crystal tears,
while we dreamed of what can
be, beyond those waves.
Still in pain, still among those
questions, without answers,
lands, without life.

We walk, because we
want to hear our voices,
in Heaven’s welcoming.
We never faded, though we
have always shaded our name
into a feint, into a
watered-down expression.

If our kiss can bleed more,
when we fall apart, in another’s
ruined arms. If our smiles
can shed more than ashes,
how fare those winds
channeling our words?

Turn a page. Take a
petal, from where it first
sprouted. A newborn
vessel, lost, in its undertow.
A river, to a departure
has set afar, our matrimony.
White moths gather,
turned to ashes.

A white altar brought forth
step after stumble. While we
held a fortune, in arms,
we wept, without waiting.
We turned pages
to see those stellar
outcomes, under rain.

Alone, to hear our tone,
to fold quilts, against shadows.
Summer has escaped
out a door we had opened,
choosing to turn pages.

Alone, to feel our bones
chiming from empty winds.
Candles highlight words,
written on our palms,
folded for answer.

Turn leaves over. Turn our
eyes, towards open doors.
To witness those ships
moving with birds,
motioning with waves,
that echo farewells.

Hold this rope
alongside, for those sides
we might have crossed.

Kisses for our eyes
back into amnesia,
back into reminder
for what we lost.

A thin ray from a moon
sets us to sleep,
too soon, too late.

A newborn child’s curiosity
grew from sheltering blankets,
for lips to breathe nebulas,
for arms to wield oceans.
We were infants with our gazes
finding stars, while our mothers
were decorated in scars.

All elders fell to their knees
for later generations to do better.
We held our hands out
to receive nothing that we did not
deserve. How better to be,
when endings were what
we have seen?

Sad to be, unanswered,
under another shelter,
hidden beneath a mountain
that rolls down its words
to no open hands.

No open mouths breathe.
Our sighs, our lives
have closed
on endless paths.

Blank, that. Blanket those
orbs of spider-woven breasts,
while we breathe a town
into infantile silence.

Slender one. Tender, to none
other, than a man’s hunger.

Taken in. Taken, again
to see your eyes this helpless
to bare your flesh, in sickness,
safe in a sinful story.

You warn me. Kept to being
careful. While I am here,
you will demand. You will
entertain these commands.
A throat for these hands,
eyes for no lands,
looking up, while you
become lifted.

Music. A rhythm, one that
conflicts as it constricts
our words into sighs.

Lifelong tempest.
This bedroom of dust
holds in imprints, our hours
of voiced lust, printing
our names in red,
keeping us defeated
in arms, for those dead.

When upon. Whereupon
those pages we typed,
described. Whenever,
wherever we mourn outside
those sides of crystal
mirrors. Desperate reflection,
viewing darker sides
behind hands that conceal.

These forever
promises to believe
in anything more than
painful grief.

Graceful. When grateful,
while wielding our courage
to escape from dark halls.

Wasteful. When kisses
tremble, under those rising
eyelids that see. Always seeing
paining swells in oceans.

Colored vows. Vanity
often resembles clarity.
Before an altar,
caressing our aches.
When painless, whenever
more than this.
Wherever we stretch to
catch a weeping sunrise,
we remain curtained,
holding our screams
from releasing.

A kiss upon a sweating
brow. Another fatal moment
gone away. One more sentence
held together, for its
promise that made us.

Painless, when we
are able to breathe,
once more.

Drowned in our
serrations. Depleted
in our resignations.

Grieve awhile. Find a
smile, tied upon thin tracks.
You were always gifted
for yearnful endings.
When water ever
lifts you, I might
empty you. I will
hand you our stories,
on silver cutting boards.

A new covering. Anew
to heal, without your
setting of faceless
formations, in those white
clouds. This infinite display
of dust, upon an ocean’s
curves: it holds us.

Warm, to kneel
down, to cold waters,
while a sun never rises.
If to heal, made to steal
a moon aboard,
light will keep reuniting.

Life will stay reigniting.

Until pain depletes
us, back into recognition.

Until each grain can be
counted. When your lips
can be tasted, without salt,
without kissing our wounds.

Build roads. Burn shelter
for desperate parasites.
We attach with
our eyes, vague upon
lasting tracks.
Bruised palms. Broken
doors, open to light
between cracks in a smile.

Are we fulfilled?
Filled up, with
a mouthful of ashes.

Are we instilled?
Reminded, to believe
in all things
less than grief.

We have opened
covers, to close our scars
in referenced endings.

We have lost more
upon winter,
in its choosing.

White pages, erased
words, of commitment.
Actions that lasted
until a disappointing
conclusion.

Longest trek, onward
onto a bridge, to a cliff.
Let our blood run
from arms to fingertips.
Clogging rain
from exiting out
windows, of our eyes.

To let our sighs free,
to express pain
will not sustain me,
cannot sustain thee.