Need

I need you, this is not a confession

I make at midnight to let you 

take apart the distance between 

where I place my pen and the language 

with which I think. There are several voices

in my head, all with a difficult tongue

Too foreign, this intensity 

to my body sweltering with baked dew 

there are things we retain for reasons unknown

like a longing clipped into little sounds

like madness and rush

of the good times coming, into soundbites

midnight flames and round bread to stack 

on empty stomachs.

I'd like to imagine you awake

I'd like to imagine you awake
there have been constant times
of you sleeping, tirelessly

I'd like to imagine you awake
with wakefulness come the questions
smart and swift

I'd like to imagine you awake
so I can walk side by side
next to the dent in the autumn

I'd like to imagine you awake
for once, I'll get the details
of all cliche's knotted as one

I'd like to imagine you awake
to the sound of normalcy, a coffee
cup gurgling, a true rooster's cry  by dawn

I'd like to imagine you awake
there will be enough time to see you
sleeping, in total resignation to a world beyond me
I'd like to imagine you awake
 living with a moth ridden imagination.

Beggar Boy

The boy sleeps in delay

between the cardboard box and the passerby

there isn't quiet enough looking

at the rags patched, the lessons clanking

in his metal cup

what happens when a man hears fire

He is scared, he won't admit

the distance between the kitchen and the toilet 

equals a few hand-throws of nuts

yet when the hissing starts 

when the fireworks decorate the night sky

the seven year old becomes

what matters most, to his trembling eyes. 

Blood oath

One day she told me, there would be a v-scar
on your palm, like a swallow
it will remind you that there's another
you take the cut for,
in case of good times, your blood tingles
with a rush of cold water
in case of darkness, your ears will ring
twice like the end of destination
but know this, she said-
there will always be the counterparts to your oath
a promise is a promise
you will become sisters,
when the sore bleeds, the scar is imprinted in your palm

What happens when we pause

Much to look forward
after waking from a flood
the turn of sun rays,
the survivors and a pause
to start, restart
To simply wake.

You make an arrival

Appear is the wrong word to use here,
an apparition at least gives way to its upcoming
upheaval. You storm into the kitchen
with bunched mint in your hand
as if you had left yesterday
and came out of memory, like a real flesh and blood
manifestation of  an old differed vision I had
I will say thank you, place the mint in the fridge
forget about the person who brought the bunched mint
till I see the greens moist with dew, next morning.