He was my young love, a true love, and I let him go. It was for his own good, I thought for sure. But now I'm second guessing, though not for my sake as I am in a happy place, in a happy relationship. He is in deep in his struggles, and as lost as the day that I left. My heart feels for him, though not in the way that I felt when we were together and carefree. Now I have no right, so I stay silent.

It's been years upon years, but I can't stop the feeling of guilt. It's as if I somehow derailed him by choosing to move on without him. I moved on and found My Heart. He moved on and got stuck in time.

"Hey Lis," my brother asks. "Is today CT's birthday?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. I think about it every year.

My brother updates me once in a while as he unwittingly does. Tells me what's been going on with his life, the downfalls, tripping headfirst into more trouble. I'm reminded of a picture of him taken before I went back to Asia for the summer, hair disheveled, the sad look in his eyes. He came up everyday to feed my cat when I was out in Hong Kong drinking and smoking.

Oftentimes when I bump into him, I'd want to know if he's found someone. I recalled the first few times we saw each other again, fresh from the pain of the break, glad that we're able to talk once more. I asked him if he's seeing anyone. He said he dated a couple of times and I felt better. We'd stand on the corner of Mott and Canal for hours on end, taking comfort in each other's company. It was a silent bond we momentarily shared, knowing that we missed each other and this was the only way we can be.

It may be naive of me, but I feel that if he found someone who could understand him, that his life would start again. Move on and be happy. I know his secret too well, and I pray for the day that someone special can step into his life and wake up his soul. His pursuit of happiness involves this and nothing else matters.

So on the eve of his birthday, I think of him once more and silently send him a wish. Hope it's not too late. And maybe the next time I see him he will have that spark in his eyes again.

Happy birthday CT. May you find your heart once more.

I am a small boat sailing
away from you, the lone island shore
stranded in the blue
Sand castle crumbles
into a pile of broken dreams
The wisps of each grain
Blown away with a sigh

night of 1000 lovers walking on this path
who are you to disrupt me
trying to get your closure?

it doesn't work like that
reaching into the recesses of my sleep

maybe i'd like to hear your story
of why you left when i needed you
the most to stay

but for now i need not hear
the tissue paper lies
that flush from your lips
and seep into my unconscious
like a silent bad dream

melancholy moments of thought
stuck on the stickiness of time
a goat left on a slippery slope
does not know how to climb

My Heart as it was

There was a beautiful autumn breeze that passed through Mulberry Street last evening. My Heart and I strolled through the midst of elderly chinese chess players in Columbus Park, waiting to meet dear friends a few blocks away. We sat for a few minutes, finishing off a mango drink, and watched a kung fu instruction take place alongside a soccer game on the field.

As the time drew near we made our way down the street, noticing a bright, new store installed alongside the dark funeral parlors and flower shops. It was a Dunkin Donuts. We contemplated the future success of this oddly placed shop that opened so close to Yello, a bar that both of us used to frequent. If they're smart, they'll be open late.

There was a group of people dressed in black, exiting one of the funeral parlors, also making their way up Mosco, one of those narrow Chinatown streets. We attached ourselves to the back, slowly filing uphill. Most likely the group is off to eat dinner somewhere, commemorating the passing of a family member with a meal. My Heart and I parted the group once we reached the corner of Mott, heading in the opposite direction. We were off to our own dinner, off to celebrate friends.

As we passed by the tea houses, we glanced in each one, seeing if there were people we knew. Just then a figure rushed by and whispered a low "boo!" I immediately recognized that voice: it was my Brother's Friend. Sporting a cut off Brooklyn tee and a spikey mohawk, the ex stopped and smiled in our direction. My Heart smiled back and shook his hand.

I asked him for his number then, remembering he had access to book printers that I would find useful for some projects in the near future. He gave me his digits, and advised me on how to get better pricing. The two of us chatted a bit longer about technical stuff, then he went on his way and we on ours. Half a block later, My Heart, jokingly observed that I got a guy's number. "Oooh! My baby got digits! My baby got DIGITS!" He is always the one to tease, and I was too amused by his playfulness to reply.

We reached our destination a few minutes later, a Malaysian restaurant on the edge of Little Italy. After checking inside and realizing we were the first of the group to arrive, we turned to go back outside to wait for everyone else. Right before exiting, My Heart turns to me and goes, "Oh look! It's your boyfriend again!"

I walked out the door in time to hear, "you're kidding." It was my Brother's Friend and a couple of his friends, whom I vaguely recognized. "You're not gonna eat here?," he inquired the both of us, seemingly surprised. (He knows my fondness for this restaurant's roti.) We explained to him that we're waiting for some friends' arrivals.

Later on as the group gathered, we entered and was seated not too far from the other group. The night wore on, and we all enjoyed comfort food amongst comfortable friends, sharing stories and laughter as we always did. And when the other group got up to leave, My Heart and I silently acknowledged the person we encountered hours ago, on another street. My Brother's Friend made eye contact with me and waved, then made eye contact with My Heart and nodded, smiling on the way out.

After dinner we passed out hugs, as one by one friends dispersed, homebound toward their destinations. Finally it was just me and My Heart as it was prior. We slowly made our way downtown, enjoying the last vestiges of the night, and happily looking forward to reruns on cable before falling asleep in each other's arms.

The Sandbanks of My Memory

It's funny how things can change your mind instantly. Fate whispers into the wind and the next thing you know, life forces a situation that pushes the boundaries of destiny. My thoughts are solidified into a concrete block, ready to take what may come. And what came tonight was not entirely unexpected thanks to seemingly random events that chipped away at my previously published belief.

Someone's post today made me think a lot about the progression of my (love) life. He wanted to know our thoughts on being friends with our exes. My thoughts were shared after much consideration of the one and only past that stood along the sandbanks of my memory:

On my end, there is only one ex that I would still consider a friend. That ex is the only one that I still care for, though not in the same way as when we used to be when we were together. The funny thing is that when we were together, he would say that he cannot be friends with his exes no matter what, and I disagreed. After our breakup, it took a long time for both of us to heal. We finally did gain closure after we tried to give it another chance only to realize that we both moved on. Now when I see him, we fall back into the time when we were friends before the relationship, and it is a comfortable space. Left unsaid is the intensity we felt for each other when we were a couple, now merely a memory that resides in the both of us. Our bond was made stronger by our relationship, but it was only for that moment in time. Until recently, I felt like I can still be friends with him. But now as I move further from that time I realize that cutting ties makes more sense, if not for me, then for the one that has my heart now...

Today, high tides washed against my columned soul. I was unconsciously bracing myself for the wave, and the wave came suddenly as I called home announcing my and My Heart's return.

"Hey Dad, what time is dinner? We are headed over soon."
"You are?... Your... old friend is visiting your brother... What's his name again?.."

I pretended not to have heard, but called my brother to see if I can get a confirmation, to which he provided none. Minutes later, we arrived, greeted by a family of two- and four-legged ones. After exchanging pleasantries with the parents, the dog and the cat, I knocked on my brother's door and tried walking away as I usually do, steeled against the possibility of seeing him again. Him, the one and only past that stood along the sandbanks of my memory.

My Heart decided to wait for the door to open, as he had always after learning to be in comfort at my parent's household. And when it did, he tried to usher me in. The wave I was bracing for came in the form of a gentle push by My Heart. I stutter stepped into my brother's room and came face to face with him.

"Hey."
"Hey."

My brother who has a knack for saving my life, (literally and figuratively), seemingly jumped out of nowhere and promptly introduced the two. Him and My Heart, Before and Now, Face to Face, (coincidentally sharing one name). I exited to help my Dad with dinner, grateful that I didn't need to speak.

The ride home helped diffuse the situation further if only in my own mind. My brother, always the one to drive, gave both parties a ride home. He in the front seat. Me and My Heart in the back. They were pleasant to each other. Cordial even. My Heart and My Brother's Friend. My Heart and the one and only past.

After settling in at home, I had to tell My Heart. Of course, he pretty much suspected and laughed it off, saying I had given myself away after resisting entry to my brother's room earlier. Then he took the opportunity to make fun of my one and only past.

"Haha, my baby went out with a dork! You dated a dork!..." And with that said, My Heart happily bounced off to play his video games.

...Now when I see him, we fall back into the time when we were friends before the relationship, and it is a comfortable space...

Perhaps I need to change that line above. Change it to reflect the sudden wave that crested tonight and smoothed over the shore. The water crash into the banks, it just reached in and gently pulled away. Things left unsaid, remains unsaid and will eventually fade like a footprint in the sand. I can no longer think of him as the one and only past. He is now and will always be My Brother's Friend.

And as for My Heart? My Heart is a shiny rock that gently pushed his way into the sandbanks of my memory, forming a new crevice while holding me strong against the whispers in the wind.

A Walk in the Rain

They were walking in the rain, fat drops rolling off the leaves,
rolling onto the umbrellas making gentle thuds. The two of them
avoided the dark puddles on the ground, occasionally hopping
across to get to the curb. The boy and girl held each other's hands
even through the drizzle, walking to their destination. They were
happily chatting away the dreary dusk, paying no attention to
their damp wrists.

Engrossed in their conversation dotted with laughter, they stopped
abruptly on the sidewalk as a car passed by. The boy instinctively
stuck his arm out to block the girl as the two watched the tiny drops
fly away from the tires. They watched until the red taillights became
dots across the road.

"Geez, you're gonna hurt me like that," the girl exclaimed.
"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't walk into oncoming traffic,"
the boy replied. "But if you think I did, then... I did!" The boy smirked,
grabbed the girl's arm and pretended to push her into the street.

She squealed at the surprise move and hit him on the shoulder
as he laughed loudly. "You're so mean," she replied, and again
they continued to walk across the street.

"But I love you," he said. Nonchalantly. Just like that as if it was
part of the ongoing conversation.

The girl was stunned. Did she hear correctly? She felt blood rush
to her face, heat eminating from the collar of her shirt. Suddenly
she couldn't face him. She felt sheepish for her prior remark and
fell silent. The boy continued walking, oblivious to her newfound
shyness, confidently reiterating his previous statement.

Finally, they reached their destination, shaking off the wetness.
The two settled in to watch the feature, the glow of the television
drew them to another place. The boy and girl leaned against
each other and settled in as evening turned to night.

The Meeting

It was that time of year again. Everything begins anew, but this new was beyond new. This year was different, the girl thinks to herself. My how things change. This boy. This boy was the 'new' and she knew it. Is it possible to meet someone and just know? This boy she bumped into twice so far. Twice she saw his smile. She knew she had to see him again.

And It Was Beautiful

It was rainy grey this Saturday.

The rain was soothing as I detoured earlier, around the buildings instead of on the covered bridge. I looked up at the new structure reaching the skies, checking it out between falling drops. Battery Park City. Downtown. Always changing. I looked down and notice the stone blocks beneath, spots of red line the triangle walkway, bright tulips swaying in the wet breeze.

I made my way inside and stood at the balcony waiting to see his familiarness, picturing a figure walking through those glass doors with a smile on his face, black umbrella in hand. I waited.

Moments later we make our way up and in, settling into seats with the perfect view. Moments later again, we slip into the story engrossed but aware, side by side, the rhythm etched into the fabric of this rainy grey Saturday, happily munching on popcorn while sipping clear soda.

After the ending, we walked back to Chinatown. I misjudged the weather and he let me borrow his jacket, big, yellow and warm. We ate dinner at his local favorite and it was delicious. Nighttime appeared and we were homebound trekking through puddles in the dark. Braving damp subway stations, longing for the warmth and dry comfort of home.

It was rainy grey this Saturday. And it was beautiful.

leap of faith

when taking a leap of faith
you let go of both hands

and trust that someone is there
to catch you when you fall

will you catch me when i fall?

will i learn to fall at all?

tell me if i should hold on
or just

let

go...

The most important thing about timing is enjoying the time you have

It was the end of the week and we met up again. Nighttime in Chinatown with its busy narrow streets. Corner of Bayard and Elizabeth. I tried to spot him from the school entrance, scanning the passersby for a familiar face catching none. Last step to the corner in hopes that he will be there. Funny how I feel my heart sink a bit, but there he was at the last step, waiting. He was leaning on the wall shielding himself from the winter wind. I can't help but smile when I turned and saw him.

Have you ever been glad to see someone there? Someone you can't get out of your mind, that drives you crazy with everything you do? I'm caught in a daze, my mind soars million miles away, my phsyical being is stuck to this earth, going through the motions everyday. Crazy.

Funny thing is, it just changes everything you see and everything you feel but on the outside everything is the same. I think he feels it too. I can see it in his face when he returns my smiles. It's this secret language in between. Wordless phrases. Deep with meaning.

Once again he takes my hand, and we are on our way, this time finding a warm shelter from this cold March evening. On our way to enjoy the little things

And I enjoy the little things with him...

A Walk Downtown

I took a walk downtown with him today, after work. It was windy out and he held my hand. Covered it to make sure it was shielded from the cold.

That path on Park Avenue down to Chinatown seems such a short distance. Not enough time to talk to him because he's such fun to be around. Today was a pleasant surprise. He waited while I got out of work. I didn't expect to see him until tomorrow.

Through the smooth concrete by Madison Park, and over the cobblestones of Nolita and Soho, we walked until daylight slipped away and nightfall came. The journey brought us to the end of Mott at Chatham Square.

That's our separating corner. We recreated the scene from our first meeting, our first goodbye that one Sunday we met for tea. Except this time there was much more...

intoxicate

intoxicate,
and kiss me on saint marks

i take a breath
from deep inside you
and feel your presence
surrounding.

hold on tenth and first.

step out in the cold
sirens blasting the city song

down by the park
you touch my face
when no one is here
then held my hands
in union square

as the red lights
ticked, ticked away
counting.


***
funny how things change in an instant.

Illusion of Mind

I only seek an illusion of mind
that involves you to the touch.
I only feel warmth of that memory
and all that is complex.
Made you disappear without a trace
If only you would listen
and hear the lifetimes in between.
Somewhere along the way
you lost me to reality
to wife and kids that settled in.
I am in no part of this dream
and haven't been for years.
Why do you expect of me
to not run away from this fakeness?
For now I will hold my hardened heart
and search for more of my laughter
even if you have lost your own.

the lost art of love

i can save tears for a rainy day, but what good would it do
if sunshine is not my friend?

i can waste my time away, but would it matter to you
if my moment begins where yours end?

do you think you can fly?
do you think you can cry?
do you think that all memories are ones that are alive?

like the lost art of love that keeps us in search
for the ones that we think we need til that need makes us hurt

the ancient unspoken words of desire
the glow of a heart when that heart is on fire

the touch that is real when our thoughts make us feel
every movement lays claim to a soul's whip appeal

that is the lost art of love.

Curiosity

Curiosity got the best of me
now I must know who you are
and why are you here
occupying my mind.
I am intrigued and I believe
that there's something written in the stars.
Helpless is a feeling that comes to mind
The daydreaming is making me crazy
I must know how to find
a silver balance just to continue on.

Melancholy Days

I search from somewhere above
thirtieth floor looking out into a world
of seemingly endless movement
Little gray dots below.
I see you in the future
but who are you to me now?
No one I know.
You are a stranger on my path
that I may pass by.
I don't know why.
Sad that I haven't met you
but content to be alone.
One day my vision of you
will be realized as you
unfold from my unconscious
and become the yin
that encircles my soul
forcing me to lose my
melancholy days.


***
It's funny how a little rain and reading can change your mood.

You Always Had to Get Over Her

You always had to get over her
whether her name was Jess or Kate
You the man-boy
swaying side to side
unsure as a toddler's step

The hair color changes,
long brunette or short and red
yet they all remained the same and left
you for another future
while your current becomes your past

Devastated, you stay
until another day brings another blonde
and you disappear into that world once again
hoping it to be the final escape

untitled (in progress)

picture me this
out in a rhyme
i in my room
you on my mind

sit as i write
dark in the sky
low in my voice
deep in my sigh

fragrant as night
angels they fly
motion so windy
air feels alive

whisper me softly
midnight moon shines
touch of a shadow
kiss me good bye

the promise of sun and grass

it was the promise of sun and grass
sweet smell, wet on my skin
the soft, green earth bed yielding to my size

summer day with the clouds and blue
amid shiny and tall buildings
gleeming in its massive glory
i look into above as i lay
and see the infinite mind
of this world and all of its existence

on family and female minds

i come home to the sounds of the air breezing
windows reveal night time and sounds of barking dog
so many details to remember
of a night i found out more
we shared meals and memories
stories of love, laughter and lineage
and we dared to have asked
on family and female minds
a shared memory of growing up
and the broken innocence of knowledge and humor
we gain collectively, a deeper bond that brings us in

i woke to a summer breeze

I woke to a summer breeze,
white curtains billow and wave up, good morning

Cat by the window
staring at my yawn

I rise and take in the fresh air
and he does the same
with his fur casting grey arches on the wooden floor

Back in the day

Back in the day, the summer sun
italian ices on the run
red and sticky down my arm
sunlight golden rays were warm
Water from hydrants flare on streets
rainbow showers can't be beat
Grandpa playing dominoes
Grandchild digging dirt like gold
Rubber mats and monkey bars
Music blasting from the cars
Dollar pizza slice for lunch
Home through piles of leaves that crunch
Ride my bike around for a cruise
Say goodbye to summer blues
School free days where the park was home
Back in the day, an ode, a poem


***
There was a continued posting that happened in one of my favorite website haunts. People reminisced about "Back in the Day" when they were growing up. Nostalgia is for those who appreciate life lived, I think.

Walk Among the Dead

I see a killer's eyes
and feel no hate.
I am drained from staring
at the past.

Walk among the dead
and feel life
surround my being,
as if souls
can touch my own.

I fly among shadows of clouds
that keep me dreaming
of cotton and water,
like blue liquid threads
thick as blood,
weave my shimmery scenes
beyond the moon.

I envision a planet
red dot against black,
as evidence of laughter
from a time stood still.

We were once there
as now we are not.

The beams of light carry
as torches time,
makes the stars smile
again as it fades
into tomorrow,
like the darkness
safely tucked away
in the folds of my mind.

the night of a dream

chasing purple clouds
looking up to see
visions like dreams to the sky

it was pretty she said
wishing over connecticut
deep in the deep blue fields

he asked how far
as heaven it seems that
this so true to me

reaching out with my mind
and touching it tight
words flow like curious beams

a mind screen
the faith of believing
the instant connection
in a split of a lifetime it seems

they laughed and slipped
and away they played
and seeped into the night of a dream


***
Inspiration requires images. These images came from running across the bridge as the evening settles in, and speaking with a friend who relocated to another state, giving me a glimpse of what his life is now like.

i miss you like the summer

i miss you like the summer
pitchers of sangria and electric blue skies
stringfuls of white light, think it's stars

we used to laugh and swing our heads
to the music, happy hollow
echoes in the hallway inside our minds

love makes you remember things
that were never truly there
but yet this dream has happened in rewind

someday i will lose this feeling
of wanting to hold on
for now i gather memories stitched in time

preserve them away
and come back to it someday
and reminisce about this simple, cherished find

i miss you like the summer
pitchers of sangria and electric blue skies
stringfuls of white light, think it's stars

give me a magic penny
copper wishes in the water
and drop it in the droplets deep and far

smiles and frowns behind me
ahead a path of new
and seasons move me from you even more


***
Letting go of bad timing. Things happen for a reason and it is the reason that keeps me filled with faith. This poem was half inspired by a summer evening with friends in an outdoor cafe. My poetry doesn't necessarily present an accurate picture in my mind, just bits and pieces of random events that collide and create a beautiful series of words.

shanghai jazz

ten minutes ago
you walked away
i can still taste your kiss
sweet cherry lips
in the wintery spring
one day i will hold you
like i did tonight
and bury my face deep
within your heart

weekend progression in digital poetic

saving grace quick to trace mind filled senses viewed
synaptic glances in my brain
snapshots when i'm with you


i feel the presence of something new but so old it faded away
life is just a counting game
to one i go insane


break down my side of chances ride into a breaking wave
i wash away my selfish pride
and drift alone away


strangeness touching so familiar warmth of hands caress
the breath of someone
lingers on in deep of the darkness


future runs to seasons past a cycle 'round the maze
dragon dances in the sun
fly high like paper planes


angels' laughter travels far into the road of gray
marks on gravel picture lovely
apple red in shades


nighttime poetry changes music forever lessoned me
love you as my love is life
as lyrics set you free


days and nights around the lunar calendar in three
friday saturday sunday evening
into the lover's day


***
This is one of my favorites, inspired by road tripping with my girlfriends, catching events in the local community and living life as I knew it. There was something familiar about hanging out with a friend who used to be more. Not quite deja vu, but dreamlike nonetheless.

A Poem for Todd

A Poem for Todd

I often wonder
what it would mean
had I not have to think
about you this way.

But here I am
and here you are not

Three years later
and I remember more.

You girlfriend from school
and her spanish eyes
Our friendly encounters
over blue and white tracks.

Tiny pieces unfold
in my folded memory

That rainy September day
as I walked off the bus
you calmed my fears
of being so new
and walked me to meet
my destined path
green suitcase in hand.

I never thanked you
for being you who
opened me up to be me.

It is years past
and 14 years removed
and years later
I say good bye again
to a friend I never really knew
as today will always be
to think of you

***
Todd was the very first person I had met when I got off that bus and onto the campus of my high school some 350 miles away from home. I was a fresh faced teenager scared beyond my wits, knowing I had embarked on a new journey that would transform who I was to be. He was a reassuring senior, who led me to where I needed to go on that rainy September morning. A month later I found out that he was the captain of the indoor track team, which I joined. I lost touch with him after he graduated, and I moved on with my own life, not really thinking about anyone from that school until 9/11, when I found out that he was among those who died. I couldn't bring myself to go to his funeral that October, but since then I've visited him every year to say good bye to a friend I never really knew.

untitled

thoughts of conjuring
spirits deep
within the past
a future filled
with love and longing

one day she becomes me

untitled (for the boy who loves me)

i have a boy who loves me
and i listen and listen for days
the songs i sing
when i miss him

find me another way
to have a last first kiss

independence from me (07.03.04)

i need independence from me
see the beach across from my mind
through my window slits of gate
falling deeper into the dark
the bright sun warms my shoulders
at least it does in my head.
i'm trapped like you
in the consciousness of this space
waiting for the next wait
moving a thousand paces
but racing against high hat sounds
of cymbals and guitars that twang
through my ears.
i see words from veins
and pounding hearts of time
envision me this choppy dream
where night is in the day.

untitled

All the roads I could take.
One by one they slip away.
Don't know the one that remains .

Will it be divine?
Will it be my time to shine?
Will I lose feeling
when my other lives die?

Thousands of sparks carry me today
Sun behind clouds threaten to break
If only I knew one more day
Will it change the one that remains?

Behind me, mountains
of old, of chapters that closed
of piles of laundry
of old dirty clothes

Looking for shoes to
take the right steps
yet every pair I tried
have something that fits

Strangely familiar
but only a dream
these other places of living
these thoughts that I mean

How will I know
when to say good bye
to a life I might have made mine?
How will I know not to cry?

I want legs that carry me far
to every place I haven't been
to see what I saw in my dreams

Will it be divine?
Will it be my time to shine?
Will I lose feeling
when my other lives die?

Thousands of sparks carry me today
Sun behind clouds threaten to break
If only I knew one more day
I will keep the one that remains


***
Sometimes my fear gets the better of me. How do I know this is who I am to be? Growing up and settling into my skin is a long process that only we can appreciate.

Against the Wind

Against The Wind

He walks in the rain
at 2 am
steady pace
against the wind

Wet all around and no
one in sight
on his way
through the hike

Soaking layers peel in
to inside
touch his skin
cleanse his mind

Are you safe
keeping passage of time?

Can you call
once again with your eye?

Not mine

Shadow is fleeting
cast me a spell
in this dream
into the well

Searching for reason
in this clear
moment of magic
deep in the air

Realizing this step
single path
of acceptance
his destined map

Puddles of memories
splash away
tomorrow
a new day

But tonight

He walks in the rain
at 2 am
steady pace
against the wind

Are you safe
keeping passage of time?

Can you call
once again with your eye?

Is it real
that you're feeling just fine?

against the wind
this time

***
I looked out the window and there was a stranger walking in the rain.

young people

young people

chase their dreams
in wrong directions

wreckless denial
with duties of age

elusive as truth
that is true

misplaced emotions

Nothing but
misplaced emotions.
In less than a year,
a new life emerged
while old ones
are cast to fade.
I have been forgotten.
Secrets pour out
of old wounds reopened
I'd rather not have known
and kept my memories pure
details emerge
my thoughts of a past life
grow hazy shades of blue.
Should I be sad
that he is forever condemned
or should I rejoice
that I am free?
In the end it is
Nothing but
misplaced emotions.

For My Present Past

Untitled (for my present past)

Like faded memories of seasons pass
I hold on to dreams of you.
The sharpest blade piercing my skin
one hundred times
The vision of this cut seeps through
my constant mind.
Maybe it is my existence
my wanting to be.
Visions of the road ahead
blocking my current path.
Maybe you were just a detour
and I should turn away.
Do you have faith that you'll find your way
or are you looking for a different guide?
So many 'maybes' hitting my mind
like drops from a monsoon rain.
Can we find comfort
in the next song
when this melody has yet to fade?
I need the preciseness
of the present time
So I can stop searching the darkened past.
One more hello and I can return
back to the smiles ahead
to the days of before you.
Pull me away in the right direction
so I can sing once more
of what's to be.
Let the nighttime remove me
from the hold of my present past.


***
I was let go and it hurt a bit.

Cornstarch baby.
I am reborn as I feel your touch.
Bursts of sundrops fall from the sky
as I see you anew
my lover of a thousand lifetimes.
Teach me a new sense of time
each moment a grain of sand I collect
in an empty bottle
fill me up with your magic
the white dust of your fingertips
smooth against my face