sea.breeze.

dark

black

still waters

seduced

by the shadowy breeze

all it can manage, still

is a faint ripple

the breeze

gets closer

her aeriform

gliding

sliding

slithering

over

his stoic

arrested

fluidity

he still

lies there

still

a watery mass

carved

in gravestone

her

tos and fros

his

listless frowns

morrow till dusk till dawns

she tries

all she can

till she goes from

husky to hoarse

he

moves not

not one edge

she

does not quit

her nibbling

and sweet talks

still nothing.

he suffers a silence

which runs deep

self humiliation

masked as

indignation

she suffers

a rejection

as visible

as her invisible being

together

they live

separately

like parallel lines

who live each other's

lives

but

never meet

aura

she speaks by writing

she writes.

when no one watches.

she writes.

when she is alone.

and leaves herself behind.

she writes.

not on pages.

not with ink.

she writes.

on the grains of sand.

each grain.

a chapter

a book

a life

in itself.

she writes on them.

and sets them sailing.

the wind in their sails.

she is.

taking her words.

to distant shores.

languages change.

with each roll of the grain.

she speaks by writing.

to friendly strangers.

she dedicates each word.

in her gracious solitude.

with gratitude.

she writes.

when no one watches.

I

Airplanes

wishful thinking

what if the stars

in the sky

were really just

fireflies

each pinned up there

for every wish

i wished

and what if

i caught them

in a jar

and set them free

in my room

would that make my room

a place

where wishes come true

or

would that make it

a room filled with

wishful thinking

wishful thinking

i assume

because, really

how does

a pinned down

wish

or one caught

in a jar

learn to

fulfill

and

justify

the reason

for its being

the blues man

making a valid point

shrew of the willow

bark

the cuddler

the naysayer

the doe-eyer

the examiner

the worrier

the sloucher

the aspirer

gaze

smudge

a bridge made of words

meant to reach across

sank and dissolved

in a sea of ink

all that now remains

a silent smudge

with each blink

nest

dry

broken

cadaverous

twigs

she nuzzled

with all her heart

and watered

with the warmth

of her breasts

regardless of

being...

...scant or replete

with a joyous misery

...more or less

...the cliche of comfort

...overborne

with the heavy hanging

empty air

this was her nest

this was her nest

mistress of the maze

wheels of fortune

corn on crack

structurally hi-wired

fugue

the absurdity of a superpower called invisibility

being invisible

to my mind

is not the kind of superpower

i want to possess

being visible

on the other hand

is a power i would like to have

sounds absurd?

ask anyone

who misses

and who

misses being missed

still sounds absurd?

Lip Service

he's got the looks

trembling

as drops of blood

gently appeared

on his back

a sign

that she had

marked her territory

his skin

under her fingernails

tamed dominated

he waited for her next command

she spread

his universe

open for him

luring him into believing

it was his sanctuary

as he slithered

towards her

to be undone

she seized his

gasp

midair

and left him

spent

trembling

in her hand

no strings attached

greed

one day

with nothing left

i will pray

for atleast a little

and a little

would feel like more than enough

but greed

won't let me stop there

till i am left with nothing

once again

i will renounce my belief then

pretend to be angry

at how unfair life is

how it took everything away

and left me with nothing

and i will pretend to be unaware

that it wasn't nothing

that put me here

it was everything

and valuing nothing

not even a little

highlights of mundane

inside out