Tuesday, February 14, 2017
We speak like rattling rain
And fumble through inhibitions
Before we reach each other.
I dip each word, in the inky darkness of my mind and hang it over the moon.
He glorifies the crescent
Day after day after day.
We aren't meant for each other
We don't intend to be.
We exchange random pieces of mind
The puzzle latches perfectly.
And then we dance
In our heads, together
Surrender to the whirling
Of this dervish, the universe
He knows, and I know
This is what there is
He knows and I know
This is all that there will ever be.
we shall meet over the moon
And read to each other
Every poem of the past
When the moon looks brighter
Know, that we took our poems back.
I see building blocks
ferociously multiplying around me.
Into people, places, things
An ongoing chaos of nothingness
I am standing still, witnessing vacuum
Trying to breathe in this noisy ensemble
One sigh at a time.
Dumb charades, my favourite childhood game
Seeped into existence,
Every performance is near perfect
Except these steely cold eyes, they refuse to budge.
And I am losing each game
To these ferociously multiplying building blocks.
Someday, the butterflies will shed their wings
And the ugly nakedness will free them
From beauty and burden
That day, they will fly astray, for once.
And the building blocks will melt
With these steely cold eyes
Dissolving everything into
A perfect final performance.