loss

dark repugnant thoughts
are the noose
from which an angel
hangs herself
in the red closet of my heart

cake

please know
the way you feel in my arms
is the way cake tastes in your mouth

Sea Night

Last night.
Last night,
on a shivering rock near the sea
a seagull sang
to her baby a candy-coated song.
As her sugary voice echoed the sky
the baby’s ears fed on it
like two starving feathery ants.
Slowly the waves started singing with her,
singing an enchanting lullaby,
which made the sun sleep longer
under the thick black blanket of the night,
but she slept violently,
kicking and tugging the blanket
with her flames,
tearing it,
and from the millions of tears in the blanket
rained down sunlight.
We call these glowing tears stars,
how ignorant have we become?

Listen.
Listen to the sea,
it made love last night.
Last night the sea kissed the pier
with an army of salty liquid lips,
they attacked the pier’s wooden body with lust
not leaving any part of her beautiful brown skin
unconquered with desire
and when she started laughing
the splinter-bruised blue lips knew they were victorious.
Last night.
Last night,
I was the sea
and you were that pier. . . .

Don’t you remember?
Don’t you remember?

Innocence

She cuts off her wings,
and gave them to me as a gift,
stormy tears in my cloudy eyes.

Plucked some feathers, 
and used them as napkins. 
Throwing them in the air,
they’re shimmering
like white puddles,
illuminating
on the night sky’s black pavement
and that is how the stars came to be,
that is how the stars came to be.

Wolf

Spirit of the wolf.
I bury a piece of my ghost
like a farmer.
Then comes fall, I will
harvest the moon
which will grow in my fields
as grains of lightning.
Cross us
and we will haunt you.

Hue

Death left its hue on him.
Slowly began to color him
white and gray
and draw wrinkles on his face.
Death left its hue on him.
That crazy artist.

crush

her lips
crushed roses
left her nectar
on his neck
her thorns
bitemarks
scars on his heart

Endancement

Dancing through the night
like the Northern Lights.
She was magic at first sight.
She was his final flight.

The Longest Night

She left my heart
like a crushed pomegranate.
A sweet mess.
Sidewalk stained with heartache.
The red glistens
under the moonlight
like her lips in my dim room.

Without You

Without you
I am an incomplete poem
left on fate’s desk, untouched.
Take your pen
and ink the painful verse of my heart,
ink the broken verse of my soul,
ink fragmented sentences to capture
the shattered lines of my mind.
Go ahead write me,
you are the poet.
I am the mouth,
you are the voice.

Do not let me be silent.
Do not let me be silent.