friends or lovers

A friendship, however hard it tries,

Will always be romantic.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the friendship,

Gently it goes

a challenge

Put in to paper
he asked
a challenge in words

A stop on Earls Court Corner

Tyrian purple I decode for you, the name I read from right to left on the street corner
a tale before I pretend to lose my native tongue to process exile
even the bread we break later we don’t offer thanks for properly
to the gods that have kept their eyes open while we spilled out

read the rest here: https://crevice.ro/a-game-of-hands-rock-paper-scissors/ 

givers and takers

- practice an open hand
- practice taking something from an open hand
- practice slander
- practice remaining silent
- practice safe arrivals
- practice late text messages after worry
- practice love
- practice another version of love
- practice being present
- practice absence with an excuse
- practice snipping tree shoots
- practice planitng trees.

Modern friendship

Break
yourself open, like a walnut shell
you still dance in the shadow
become a hazy memory that calls nothing for glory.

things I call autumn

once more left
to this rush
the fake leaves I make and call autumn

words or selves

I got written a poem
to save my soul

you tell me and I am not surprised
you feel touched

I haven't written
to fill your voids

but should up at your door
wearing all the past you don't even remember.

an awkward second

Are we related?
the question comes up
as the waffle gets colder

prolonged reunions

Your hug is a prolonged reunion
that waited five years
over bird-sat wires

sickness strikes steady

you say it swiftly
like a sword it cuts

a sickness strikes steady
unnamed, a little virus

knocks down a fort
that was being built for five years

in limestone and alcohol
in abstracts and foreign words.

Lifted

I get lifted, in comfortable arms
a little darker than mine

a little less sure of where they are placed
adequately to not cause me pain

a little heavier than me
but strong enough to make a house from scratch

this is a scene: I get lifted in the sky
you stay grounded to this earth that holds you.

a cold birthday

Eyes drooping with liner,

Cigarette at hand and her birthday was very cold

Spent moving between the rock and the harder place;

I haven’t been home- she thinks

Because home’s sunshine was the answer

unsolicited advice on love

 In love, she tells me

Be content with the minimal

You are of an age that allows you

access to minimal sources for the same waters

use the little things you get, without sacrificing the rest.  

a hand in fire

I walk hand in hand with fire
you say it is not equal to water

who is crazy enough to compare
fire with water

equate the cause and its effect
the setting and the ending?

I walked hand in hand with water
you say it is cooler on your tongue 

I articulate my vowels differently
how then, do you want me to speak to you
like fire, or like water?

bad internet

This is the result of a third world country 
an internet that cuts
mid-song, my chain of ideas

coming your way
your voice is ill-prepared
to the temperament in mine

this is all the result of a bad connection
blame the internet for it
blame us, for not beating our skins enough
to reach one another.

who wins against time?

Who wins against time, 

if I leave the minute to look backward 

at your body walking into a lit room

no one, 

I hear your laughter 

commending what I have left of bravery 

that I have loved a ghost 

dedicated my life to the shadow of a star 

because it was easier to be in the dark 

morbid, I know 

but for some reason I think of you

young and raw, like a new apple left to nature

no one wins against time

it is the only race 

I have been running for years. 

untimely leaving

a departure arrives
by way of summer
I keep praying it changes
the first swallow has just arrived

a weekend displeasure

that I care not to what you say
that's displeasure monitored closely
the minute we both step in ice-water
on the only weekend we had freely to ourselves

a renewed faith

for miss B

You had a spark
a touch, that's always been different- you tell me

I shudder at the faith you give me
one I lost when I last saw you.

awake

this is what your voice does
calling in the night-time

it is always beautiful to know
someone else shares your loneliness

in between the hours
you should have been sharing sleep

a dream that reaches
around all the heads you wear

but there you are, tiny, sitting voiceless
listening to a description, while awake

looking out on a nocturnal village
that rest at 3:00 am.