When lips began gathering dust,
pale winters sewn together
flit across the bare walls
We don’t talk. Words find home in the corners of my mouth that can be birthed into being
only in a moment of love. We let the windows rattle and crack open the midnight moon
onto our bed. It is one AM and you hold my shivering jaws together in your palms.
The cold bites away into my bones, denuded of flesh. You excavate your pocket and
fish out a half-smoked cigarette. We break into a smile at the same instance and giggle
like children building sand-castles by the sea.
We look for the taste of water.
We look for anything that can keep us warm
I pull out old sweaters from the shelves,
keepsakes from bygone lovers.
You look around the room,
You have given yourself to me. Even in a world that could leave one jaded
and wandering, you leave a parched me tasting dew drops that fall from the underbelly
of a leaf. You teach me things I wouldn’t have learned in the violence of things around me.
We learn how to love in its absence. We learned how to give, by letting go.
As rooms linger in memories,
midnights don’t open
alleys of desire.
we find ourselves
bits of teeth
As morning peels away the night,
the rain softens out the hardness
we have built overnight.
It’s time to leave.
We have bled into each other.
Jan 15, 2015 0CALL FOR: This is an invitation call for poetry editors, scholars, professors and creative writing geniuses to be a part of a mammoth project on contemporary world poetry of major Diasporas. WHAT IT IS NOT: This is not another anthology or a mere collective of poetry. This is a much...