Dawn is a Biscuit

Dawn is a biscuit
dipped into your liquid dream;
I taste it through you.

Ode to his Perfect Masculinity

His eyes branded me with a golden glance-
I burned with desire; I became a fire,
fated to perform the eternal dance-
that reaching for love, that soaring higher.

His lip was a rivulet lost in me,
and I found my soul at the water's edge.
His fingers that played me a melody;
I was but turned into a timeless pledge.

His arms that blossomed around my heart;
I was sculpted anew- a perfection.
His feet that drew me a work of art-
I journeyed a shadow sans a question.

I say to myself that I know a man
who has worshipped me like no one can.

Spent

This evening that I spent in your heart
curtaining it with my eyelashes, black;
swallowing light and repainting the shack
with nothing but the wan darkness of art-
recall the night that I spent in your mind
adorning it with a poem that didn't lie,
recall my nakedness and you will find
that I did not lie when I said I'd die.

Because I gave away my truth one night
and lost the prize of my virginity,
because I stripped you off with all my might,
because I touched you with insanity-
just say to yourself, admit what is right:
that you were loved beyond infinity.

The Bird Must Die

I,
am a desperate sky,
caught...
...caught in a mad flutter
of wings...

...the bird must die.

Heavy chirp-
it shoots at me a sigh;
it tears me and I,
stutter...
...caught in the mad flutter,
I cry-

the bird must die.

Purple beak-
it nibbles at me.
Trapped,
I live in an eye...

...a bird contains the sky?

The bird must die.

To Paradise

I walk to the shores

of these eyes of yours

and contemplate

suicide.

Hide

if I may, behind these doors-

these eyes of yours,

create

for me a paradise.

Abacus

He has us in bars -
pebbles for people;
two and two make four.

God counts. Life,
is his abacus.

And us, nothing more
than being meat
for meaningless additions.

Trapped
into this vile math,
we are for sure,

pebbles, marbles, stones and stars.

And Then There Was This Mirror

I had looked into several mirrors-
those that thought me beautiful
and those that weren't pleased;
mirrors that wanted more,
mirrors that wanted less.

I had looked at mirrors
that weren't mirrors;
mirrors, I'd shattered with a look.

And then there was this mirror
that had caught me right-
a mirror I fell into
when I wasn't looking.

A mirror so much me
that I began
reflecting it.

A mirror that was water.

The mirror that turned me

into a ripple…

The mirror.

Whether I’m still ‘into it’,
I cannot tell.

But the mirror is always there.

With me.

We’re travelling together;
unraveling each other.

Mirrors. Reflections. Lost. And Found.