Name

Drowning in the permeating apparition,
Throbbing vitality,
Incumbent life of flesh.
Show me your face.

Search beyond the fire and brimstone of empty spaces. 
Eyes that speak of raging storms,
Battering my curious mind,
Lost land of old secrets and forgotten forests.

Shifting memory darkening the afternoon,
Silence of retrospective hunger.
Echoing through my pages - two ceaseless syllables.
The beginning and the end, the circle of your name.

Addiction

The not knowing,
The waiting,
The indecision,
The menace of endings.

Yet I cross over to the other shore,
Despite the fear.
The burden of impending addiction,
Weighing down upon my feeble consciousness.

The lure of hope,
Leads me like a moth to a flame,
Inevitably towards the disastrous fire,
Towards the joyous perishing at your indifference.

Ghost

In the empty spaces
Between the fingers,
In the tiny air bubble
In the water bottle,
I see you.

The buttonhole
Closes up in the memory of your touch.
Fill in my blanks.
Fold the edges of yourself around me.

The presence of your absence.
Ocean without water.
 

Communication

Channels of meticulous thought
Traced through the device of hermetic jargon.
Ideas imported into the atmosphere,
An esoteric schema of expression.

The speaker withdrawing into irrelevance,
In importance receding.
Yet personal subjectivity not entirely forfeited,
Further enhanced in detached obscurity.

Amidst the linguistic distraction of semantics,
The struggle to not abandon reason and rationale.
The disputable liability of the anonymous tongue.
The undefined being and self of language.

Lesson

My memory
Distorts the picture of my history.
It is not so much for the sake of posterity,
But more of a desire so deep to spell.

To travel the roads of the past,
To contemplate at the crossroads of possibilities.
What might have been is strangely more clear,
Than what actually did.

Markers of time - minute, fortnight, year.
What do I opt as the right shell for my narrative?
All that I choose to remember and reveal,
Is only an eclipse of the absolute meaning.

What you see now, what is around you,
Is always only half the story.
All love is conditional,
The only time that matters is now.

School

And she had to learn,
That all things exquisite,
Came with allied ambiguity.
The tiring hunt for the silver lining.

She had to die a little,
Each time love turned his back on her.
Before she grasped the pattern,
And wove her answers around it.

To grow
Is to recognize limits.
To feel the texture of imperfection,
Rub up against the flesh of life,

And despite everything,
To look up at the infinite stars,
And still be able to wonder,
And smile.

Serendipity

In the stillness
Of that quiet sundown,
An uneventful conversation,
Over a cup of tea,
And music.

Also the wordless exchange
Of soft glances and self-explanatory smiles,
In the comfortable silences in between.

What an unremarkable evening.
What an indelible memory.