don’t know what to call this one.

I picked up my pen
last night
to tell you
why I still keep your
shampoo in my bath
but soon as the ink
started flowing
my body started to
drown in the bubbles
of our past
the time when I thought I knew
what love is
and then crossed
our paths.

and the time stopped
moving around, it got up
and set on a
straight line
it followed your lead
into your exploration of a new space
while I watched
helplessly, from behind.

and soon my pen
danced under the dim light
and drew the ink
from my heart
you took those moments
away, from me
and all I was left with
was some words on a page and
your shampoo, in my bath.

take both, my dear

I force my eyes to sustain
the little opening they can afford;
wish I would have listened to him.

with the spirits starting to dance
and breathe in the air
I sigh
and stare into the eyes of
the night, when he made the crowd
swoon over the blues
of his fingers.

I pause like photos
as the silence of the dark whispers
empty streets murmur whistling tones
the haze of street lights
and my eyes have found
a resemblance.

it’s all going dim.

and the bird has flown

and it is
the mildly painted winds
and stacked streets

i walk among the laboring
shadows, the scent still clinging
to the holes in my jacket.
the feet have no known
destination, and
so do my eyes.

it is the light
in the sky, that cuts through
the vacuum of her presence
and wishes to fill
the void, the reminiscent of fall.

but the rain ticks
turning my body clockwise
to the next course
even though her feathers
still calmly lay on
my clothes, the bird
who chirped the songs
of summer, has left us both.

her faint feathers
and silky silhouette
dives in with the waves
and swim on, to where
her heart belongs
but cometh the fall
and once again
will sing the bird
loud in mid-summer
a singer everyone has heard.

just like a woman.

my hands don’t feel a thing tonight
as i stand in the shower
of the breeze
the ghost of your body
holds on to my neck
wondering how bad lives make
good stories,
but your face is safe
from the closed doorways
as you escape, the black and
the white of the night,
just like a woman
who mixes the shades
and paints her world, in colors bright.

and you walk closer, announcing your stay
with a scrumptious smile
on your face
the comfort flows with
anything you say
but don’t think it’ll always
be this way,
and just like a woman, who sings
a song with her eyes
with her hair and pearls overlooking,
you hold my face
amidst a dozen doubts
as the hard moon keeps on looming.

and now i’m here
standing cold
after waking next to strangers
get old
realizing my various faces
were just made up words
that my pen constantly poured,
i study your ears
underneath your breath
maybe this was a part
of your plan
you pull my hair
and scrape my back, and moan
just like a woman.