My own key slotted in your door
I am unforgettable because I left,
under the honeyed eyes of the sun,
one lazy morning, after endlessly measuring
every inch of you, basked in slumber.
I shall be forever forgotten
in all the sundry stances of the days
to come and go senseless,
burdenlike.
I would have grown forgetful, had I stayed,
of the liquid memory of us,
and this way of yours of clinging to the life
of it, flowing from one side of me into you
and back- unravelling the shortcomings.
Survival
My body is water,a floating city
of blood, bones and the failing flesh.They journey together.
It craves flooding and burstingits inland dams.
It pivots, sprints, hauls and plunges,takes fire and ice
to restore its logic,to trace the noise of strife
and hold its flow.And if you ask me now
what happened to it-love gave its sorrow a name
and drowned it.On life’s meaningful pauses
We’re weightless
as we ride kites into the sunset
on bleeding fingertips around the string,
running the ins and outs of our verbal textures,
until there is no more life to waste on.
There is a neon bar inside the topology
of the flight, leading all wingless lovers
to make believe well-adjusted, invisible
hugs and torching gazes into the grammar
of being unseen.
Still, if I can hardly ever hold you inside
the spelling intricacy of me,
how can I breathe breathless into the air of you?