Longing to feel the pleasure of your blow
as I hold the rod of your love. My dear,
I know our roots will not go much deeper.
For now, like atoms, I want you as near.
Sweet words slip from your lips
but it tastes bitter on my tongue
You wrap me in a tight embrace
and I choke on the crisp night air
Leaving after work in the morning light
makes forgetting all but easy
Of what we used to be.
in your dad’s quarry
the damp thick of the air
in which two hearts lingered
for a few tragic years
one higher than the other
before they came undone
plummeting and shattering
Yet despair permeates the air,
It clings to my clothes,
Sits in your empty chair.
My emotions raw,
My devotion not required anymore,
For you have found a new love,
A younger version of me,
A man whose belly burns with fire,
Not a solid, dependable soul like me.
She’ll bring you in
To her den of sin
Steal your soul for the night
The sun’s going down
Time’s running out
Better buckle your belt
For this roller-coaster ride
You stalked my walls and found them wanting.
Then you, with exquisite ease,
Complicit I bade the watchmen wait,
For a signal of your purpose.
But you so carefully and quietly,
began picking and removing, unpacking and exposing,
unwinding and reclaiming all,
that you could posses.
I am going to hurt
I am going to hurt real bad
Until every single bone in my body is broken
I am going to scream
Scream until I lose my voice
Or scream until I lose my mind
The breathy touch, so tentative,
The answering squeeze
All beams and tiptoes as we trod
“The dream’s come true”
The curtain nearly volunteered
To close itself.
Is this the dream
or simply a phase?
From what I can see,
we have limited days.
Let the wind take my breath
So that I may no longer speak your name.
He closes his eyes
wanting her words
to be true, yet he knew
she was only
being true to herself
The day was sad and wearisome,
It chilled me to my core,
I’d known that something would go wrong,
Though I could not be sure.
I’d felt so tired and lonely, still,
My heart had ached for him,
Beneath the Christmas trim.
Dedicated to: Aseel Kawash
Have I ever mentioned
The hot chocolate you invented?
Thick and a little sugary
Poured into the wrong cups
By the scatter of our weekly magazines
Have I ever told you
I’ve forgotten the orange-redness
Of my hair when I was younger?
I wish I’d chosen dye more wisely
Yet your drawings of me
Of the smile I attempted horribly
And the fiery, red curls
Made me feel less foolish
I always believed time would cease
At the blissful age of sixteen
Those greyish, green eyes.
Dimples when you smiled
Like raindrop wounds.
You looked too familiar for a stranger.
Maybe you had appeared in my dreams from the future.
Sent back in time.
Stalked you on the Internet and found out your name.
Social media and company websites,
The hunter’s paradise.
Your own beauty exploration
Had outside blissfulness of marriage
Lures men to love exploration
Of you until you reach your vile age.
Your readiness is what matter.
Marriage is honorable in all
Plenty money does not matter.
Make sure you don’t waste time at all.
The whereabouts of your mind are anybody’s guess,
Wearing nothing but a smile, you look so well dressed.
The sky is crisp and clear and blue,
His breath is on the air,
He silently walks through the street
With sunlight in his hair.
His eyes are cast down at his feet,
He hurries to get home,
Afraid to stop beside the park
With the blackened dome.