yesteryears

crushed at the precipice
slowly unfurled to
lay

somewhere left; behind?
the thrush, she sang deep into my weary weathered wrinkles yet to be imagined

– this was not the 4am ruby rubble of yesteryears
you only remembered
the mold of the shutters
the smell that seeped through your skin
to find the
– what?

perhaps the clouds will
betray their secret
on some day, not too wet not too-

 

I inhaled and closed the other remembrances.

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Cinders

Sharp
breaks and flickers
in the light that
my hand reaches upwards
towards
where the burnt sky presses itself down upon
lattices, tenuous

I pull them one by one
delicate webs, frail,
summon them from their fragile cocoons
brittle, breakable, barely
Thin and wispy
Ghosts that I had misremembered
To pack along with the rest

Where did their luster go?
I don’t recognize this one
Dull, mundane
Washed out shell
washed up again and again

Spit out and churned up
until it becomes eroded, beyond all
until it becomes as minute as a
grain of sand

through all of the intimated
whispers, I felt the thin press of all
shells – you will always
be dear

– that had gone undusted

Weather

I wondered why it
felt a little cold
A little damp
Then remembered that you walked out
and left the door ajar
The doorknob is missing

I remember your shoulder
The one that taught me everything
That I now have to unlearn
Your cold shoulder
Only warmed by another
My cold shoulder in turn

I think of our stories
film camera
converse shoes
conversing about anything or
Nothing at all
Always wanting to run away
Now you’ve run for good
My shoes eat dust

You had let me envelop you
Like fabric stretched over
I didn’t know how good it felt to be worn
I didn’t know I could be worn and torn
I didn’t know I could be
Worn and torn

Needle and thread make micro pricks
In these hands that fumble as they shiver
To piece back the pieces that were
together
Stitched with yours
Some cautioned it would be hard to sew
in this weather

I wondered why it felt a little cold
A little damp

The door is ajar

Kenojo

I remember you saying
That you appreciate the ones that go rhyming
So here’s to reminiscing
The memories I’m grateful for –

Of a sunset, shared between two
You couldn’t have done much more
A moment I hold to be true
This connection to continue
A closed soul, and an open door

Of a corner in the darkened cold
To release what could not be undone otherwise
Only to come out to the stronghold
That the window, now biblical, told
That alone, you hoped would suffice

Of moments and places
Of emotional spaces
Offered up in genuine love and care
The casual inquiry
Or the sit-down enquiry
There was rarely a time you weren’t there

So in gratitude I write this
and I hope you agree
When I say the next few years
despite the tears and fears
Will be one heck of a journey
For you and me

For the world to see

Without us going crazy

Or turning gay eeeeh

And less puns from you maybe

And more sing-a-longs with Disney

Until too tired then we use the other knee

Hee hee.

Again

Come and gone
tattered pages of an old book
dancing, flipping in the wind
try and grasp it
tastes like cider
sweet as iron and dust
sweet as iron and dust

Can you see it
Do you feel
this emptiness
brimming with that which
is known to be lost
only to be found

again
day
by

day.

Vagabond

Strange you didn’t see
When you let it go from such heights
As it crashed and continued
to drown in its own
Soup
of blood and tears
And mixed up fears

Gagging somewhere along its
Cumbersome death
Undyingly
Tryingly
Crawling somewhere
to some abandoned corner
Crumpling itself
With each step
Crumbling
so it will never be
Seen or heard
of ever
again