The sun’s awake and I refuse to even move.
The world lit by its harshness,
burning my eyes.
My favorite days are overcast.
Today, light comes flooding through the window,
denying the existence of shutters.
I stir and my world quakes,
my lungs filling with the smell
of paper and the sweetness of ink.
And I feel like I’m flying as
my mind plunges back into darkness.
And it is to darkness that I wake up,
the absence of light, the presence of silence.
Or so it seems.
Those like me are just as alive as I am.
You can barely tell that I’m here,
even if you are looking.
Lacking the theatrics,
I blend into my surroundings
perfectly. (But I am always here.)
But if you look closer,
you will see two eyes, staring
unwaveringly back at you.
Your one fatal mistake
would be to forget that I am
my surname holds two explanations to its name:
a, that it depicts two spinal disks, vertebrae still connected, my soul, my marrow can be reduced—but never lost
and b, that two mouths are open, and i cannot do anything other than let out music notes, they are slurred together, and i pretend there is no end in sight
she tells me that dawn is not without sound, that the sun does not rise alone, its light casts every thing out of shadow, and coaxes every creature out of its shell
i wish that i were yet a fraction of a morning person as my name has imprinted upon my blood and skin
i wonder at the last, how the latin calls me royal, but your tongue cuts right through me and leaves me feeling small. in my motherland, i am but a blade of grass, for you
in the end, i am but made of parts. but always, i am always, more than the sum of my parts. even if trifling and negligible. you remind me.
(with thanks to, the yellowbridge dictionary)
August 20, 2013
your body is (not) collapsible
feel how it bends and gives way
how it stands in the wind
there is no place to run
I promise you that love is more important than
I promise you that love is exactly
i live each week like a series of little deaths
i fight the whole way to the grave
and i fight the whole way out
deciding everyday to live is hard
no wonder i have so many birthmarks
let me sand away the edges of your bones with my bare fingertips until
you are just curves,
let me collect the dust off your changing limbs into my aging lungs,
i want to have my fill of your scent, lose myself in it like fog
i am drowning, but still grounded
for you sedate the rushing of my blood
like the sweetest of frankincense or maybe it’s ambergris
i am drunk from breathing you in,
from the kisses that the ridges of your skin leave on mine
leaving stains on my skin
sunlight presses into my limbs
and softens me like wax
moonlight sits with me and
holds my heart in hand
like i am the universe’s only child
august 20, 2013