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you are a lost boy in her smile.
i am your fondest dream.
i am torn at the seams.
i am everything i am not it seems…
but, you are the camera to which i am far removed.
you are the light of the perilous moon.
you are the candle of warmth that i cannot feel.
you are at the cusp of my violent steel.
you are the mountain that i cannot reach.
you are the cabin that i loathe and beseech.
you are the beauty of my starry night.
you are the galaxy caught in a moment in time.
you are the air that i cannot feel.
you are the illusion sought in a lover’s dream.
you are the beast hidden in plain sight.
you are the loving arms through which my heart beats.
you are everything i see.
you are everything.
you are everything infinitely. -
to change our lovers anthem
out in the city scapes.
lying in the paper crepes.
wishing for a fate in your arms awake.
no ghoulish charm to further bother your aspect
for in our eyes, it was foolish to access. -
falling in gravity’s arms
the once depraved soul who dared to march in the hallowed halls of our forgotten futures are the next best thing to anything. they put the “in” in grin. as if the world needs saving… or more importantly, needs a saviour. a knight in shining armor type. one that we wouldn’t get into too much trouble… yeah, i think i would like him. i would like that he would only be for me. someone so far beyond my reach would bring me utmost happiness by his existence alone. he would make the weight of my feet feel infinitely light, the density of my pen flow in silky ink, the opaque acrylics of my paint colour only the loveliest parts of my imagination… yes, only he would be able to do that.
yet, i am here. i am him. but i am wanting more than anything, to simply fall in gravity’s arms.
-
balloon rides to the edge of outerspace
golden rainbows in the form of sunshine dripping into those god forsaken supple mouths. the flirtatious puckers fell victim to the hand that made the creation of men. no wonder the heavens couldn’t rejoice at the glory of the awe inspiring earth. they are jealous. infinitely connected to its creations… the purple, green, blue-tinged flowers wonderfully dispersed in a colourful array by foot of the wisher washer passer bys. they say that “the world is even more beautiful off the ground.” so it was set in stone, marla needed one balloon ride to the edge of outer space.
she was once a painter turned optimist. the scenery filled itself with playthings for everyone else but me. so i wished in my labour for a hero in training, a technicolour soul in a rare hue.
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bullet proof points armored with parables
that old wise man once said in a raspy voice that battles that of tom waits and said quite adamantly, “my girl, you have the gift of a thousand angels yet weep for not knowing so…”
the girl stared and pondered at the water that dripped from down her face and neck. cold, undisturbed, determined, and runs cautiously unaware of its own appeal to the booing crowd… “you know, i’ve been waiting to meet you all my life…” within seconds she feels the electric pulses coursing through her veins… and finally… her wish has come true. -
tell me something beautiful
if i was a dream, i’d dream of nobody. if i was a nobody, i’d make sure you get to know me…
with the shear remembrance of the hillside that roamed the forgotten cities of your body, remains an echo of thoughtless da dums… da dum, da dum, da dum… the curvature of your lines in a pirouette is a feature framed for those fetal flutters… that we only hear in a b flat-
-tered, you are the eighth to my sixteenth. so i ask, please let the delicate aromas of your mouth cloud the judgment of good men and women. a fleeting second, a fleeting gift… now wave to the crowd…
lathered in spotlight and soaked with jitters to the brim of a glass neither half empty or full. clink, a sound to break the barrier. clink, a sound to break the tension. clink… just for good measure.
if this earth was an orchard, i guarantee you you were hand-picked for your colour and misshapen stature to blossom under the warmth of the sun. to gloriously emanate in multiples. you, you were also lucky enough to meet a lady as a passerby. she looks to you in her glistened stare to combat your deep set techni-coloured eyes, gives an obligatory smile and only with the utmost curiosity she says, with only four words to savour… “tell me something beautiful…”
