when the night flickered its last flame, i let it go. it was the right thing to do. i can’t remember what we said then. only petals of warmth, clove-d smoke on my tongue. i must have slept. you must have too. trying to keep love blurry&underwater. 

how light the raindrops contents are

how gently the earth touches us, 

they seem to prefer us to linger in this

moss green seascape draped in velvet….

Heidegger must be right, that being truly exists 

and nothingness? that will be left for poets 

to intuit. i only know that the moment you try 

embrace me, we are smeared by the stars. 

luminous milky sky and summer winds on the 

eleventh floor. you alone know what my face

hides, a face i didn’t know could be beautiful. 

summer golden and ill-adorned

i wanted to hide within myself so deeply

so that fortune could not find her hands

upon my neck. i don’t know how the moon 

always finds her courage to step outside

 on nights like these, with

small blasphemers howling out her name

from leaf to leaf, ignorant of aquinas. 

for all their faults, they seem more skilled at

accepting eternal recurrences of the same event

than i am. they always fall in love and

put up no resistance. 

swimming for so long, my wrinkled soul emerged
feeling ahead for once. but the sun rushes towards
cloudiness. it outruns me and the hour hand at six.
how did we get here? shall we take it from the
beginning or the end? i don’t believe they will be
very different. look how they each begin with a
slow embrace, godbees migrating to the smell
of winter, a long plane trip. 

these were the dangers i tried
to ignore, but those green dusks that blush 
and your whisky kisses in my bed!
at four in the morning i wake from dizzying seas
and boats that keep on coming and going
in misty evenings with no lantern. i wake fearful.
men sleep a thousand sleeps and wake maybe once. at least
i light poetry with a match like alcohol, trying to find you.