Five in ten thousand

Rigil Kentuarus 

Five years of distance,

five years of post office mistakes,

five years of undelivered affection.

Come the final hours

to the end of the world,

I'll wish we could sit outside and read

the universe on each other's palms

as we used to when we were young.

Tsih

I followed the spark in your eyes

and spiral danced around you like a beetle

before losing them for the dark night.

We learned each other's pitch

by watching words

come to light in the blackness

and used our hands to protect them

as if they were fireflies.

El Nath

A list of ways in which love is concrete:

in paper folded  boats,

in balloon elephants,

in black tea when I'm sick,

in a tangible invented world,

in the books we read,

in the waiting for Godot,

in Magritte.

Girtab

No one else finds me awake

after the 2 a.m. train,

I am not there for anyone else.

 I'm carried into my dreams

 by a whistle,

gradually fading in the separation,

sure to be soon lost in the distance
when you don't come.

Mirfak

You trigger me to

stare at my own spirit.

You wrap me 

in different strengths.

I show you the roof of my mouth

and am posed with your vast rib cage -

who would have thought 

of  a better hiding place?

(Shared with the Imaginary Garden)

The touch of dust

Dear M, I was there
when you left your coop
for the first time

a latent desire to
raise higher flights

you flailed your wings clumsily
and only sustained yourself in the air
 for a few seconds if that.

What I meant to tell you then
is that a body is a traveling cage
bound to the ground by the law of gravity

there is no freedom
in the tangible physicality

it's the touch of dust which
teaches we are made
of the same thing.

Like a bull in a china shop

For every tear I ever dropped there is now a crystal in my left kidney,

making it harder for light to travel through my body,
making it more difficult for me to choose radiance.

I had the choice to never let anyone else close to my heart.
But then there was you and I wanted you to see it so bad
I laid down my sword and shield and let you in.

You made your way inside me
like a bull in a china shop.

Touch

A list of ways in which we
haven't touched each other yet:

Your chest, my head.
Your lips, my breasts.
your hands, my thighs.

Your legs, my hips.
Your feet, my feet.
Your tongue, my sighs.

My back, your nose.
My teeth, your ears.
My arms, your fears.

My fingers, your days.
My scar, your weight.
My truth, your eyes.

To go into the world

To find your soul
a safe place on someone
else's cupped hands

and balance 

and words

and again a way.

Damaged as we have been,
broken as we are,
pieces of our bare selves -

It's for you,

the clean smile I wear
when I leave my body and

go into the world.

The boy who lived on the second floor

He would pull my hair,
run after me around the block
holding a caterpillar on a stick,
and call me stupid.

I would bite his arm,
spit on his head whenever he
walked under my window
and call him stupid.

We would throw spiny seed capsules

of the castor oil plants around
at each other all the time.

Until one Sunday morning
getting back from church,
he left a note under my door

which read (in horrible handwriting):
Will you be my girlfriend?
and I crossed the box under yes.


(Written for Susan's Midweek Motif over at The Poets United and Robert Lee Brewer's Wednesday prompt over at WD)

Eta Aquarids

On the peak of Eta Aquarids,

the entire universe skipping bed

in exchange for a shooting star

(except for me),

he wakes me up at two,

because he can't see East

from any of his windows

and maybe I could lend him

one of my wishes.

At two in the morning

on the peak of Eta Aquarids

we haven't seen each other in ages.

I tell him about my encounter

with Comet Halley in 1986

and how I finally understand
some things are not meant to stay. 

He continues not loving me,

but that's no longer on my list.

Pauli exclusion principle

I know for a fact, much before
Physics class in Junior High,
our neighbor's oldest son Marcus's tongue
uncomfortably chasing mine,
that two bodies cannot occupy
 the same space in time.

But there's nearness,
there's warmth.
There's this vacant spot
the closest from my chest,
right around my arms -
I am saving it for you.


(Started for Susan's Mid-week Motif on Science over at The Poets United. Completed for Fireblossom's Flash Fiction 55 mini-challenge over at the Imaginary Garden)

On the top of the tallest trees

And now I wish to admit
I ignored the clouds.

Last night there weren't
dreams or stars for me.

Still I went outside
for a walk with the cold wind,

the eyes of the universe resting
on the top of the tallest trees,

the night so quiet anyone would
become more pensive.