listen

in the middle of the jungle.
all alone at night.
i swear i can hear it.
jazz.

being

i am beautiful again
because i no longer have to be
beautiful enough for you.
i know where i'm going now
because i no longer have to wait
for you to follow me.
i have found myself again
because i am no longer looking
for you to come find me.
i am my own.
beautiful.
sure.
found.

unclaimed

the earth of this land sticks to me
as if i'll never be free of it.
my feet are ever sandy,
my skin always coated
with an indiscriminate layer;
a grimy mix of hot humid air
and dark, damp soil.
why did your pale dust
never lay claim to me like this?

lost

you say we are lost
on islands apart
oceans of words
and worldly wisdom
between us
i say ride the silence
and let your whisper be
an empty page in a bottle
that crosses the sea

home is...

never felt so alone
and so loved
marvelling at the silence
of a million souls shouting
welcome home traveller!

silver

sometimes my body thinks it's a ghost
can pass through walls thicker than death
making you shiver when i come too close
stealing away that very last breath

wordlessly poetic

burn

how can you hope
to burn brighter than the flame
and then cast blame on those
that chose to refrain
from holding you closer?

flashback

all it takes is a tiny tear
a rip
a cut
a dream
and the worst of what was
bears in like a flood
and wipes the new story clean

recognition

soft black curls
cascade across
shoulders bare
knees kissing
feet dismissing
awkward shyness
in a downcast glance
mirror likeness
gazes back
never felt
so shy before

for marc

the most romantic moment came

sitting on a bus
with someone i don't know

not speaking
not touching

my heart brimming over
with volumes of poetry

mirror, mirror

look at me
my ashy knees
the cuts and scrapes
along my legs
the low lying slopes
of belly and breasts
the tangled mess
of manic hair
look hard
can you find me there?

hmm...

sometimes
i feel the wind
will take me
up...
up...
up into the sky
till my feet
lose their memory
of land