Exception

They may be right
in observing that
flowers turn their heads away
and wipe their mouths dry
at the thought of strangers.

I know of one long season of autumn,
which spoke otherwise. 

Encounters of Insignificance

Part 1: Love

Our river may have
meandered and flown into
warmer, stranger waters.
We need not reflect on the absurdity.
Instead let's gaze at the sunburnt sky
because I just found our birds.
Feathers of blue, they were flying in motion slower than ours
from my continent to yours.

Part 2 : Longing

You'd catch my fever
if we shared time and space
for one sleepless night,
arguing endlessly about lust and loyalty.
Soon we'd roll into one,
blow up in smoke rings
and disappear into our chain of syllables
before they discovered us.          

Age

I feel it moving inside my belly
not a baby, not a worm
not an insider that wants to transform
some flesh into future possibilities.

I feel age and with it,
the unputdownable urge
to look at things in their nudity and bleakness.
No open windows or running water
or sparkling walls of busy city streets.
Only some lightbulbs hanging over my table,
fatigued, refusing to keep me warm, by the end of the day.

She said I needed a fresh prism
She hoped it would be love that could sew my nerves together
She waited for something to melt inside my head
as though problems are blocks of solid
which needed some heat to pass through them.
But I shouldn't lie to her and I never do
when I am with her in bed every night I convince her
in soft hushed tones that
I'm not insane, just very, very old.

Friendlessness

The pages have not

been able to preserve

any scent of people going through them.

Often crowded corridoors lead to empty rooms.

Beyond differences

All unhealthy interactions

are welcome because

they mend, they diffuse

and obliviously,

complete the passage. 

For the love of travel,

for mutual difference,

they come in a full circle
to remind us that

the mess we make of

our present situation
is an unfinished business

that has waited long enough.

Strictly Prosaic

I won't believe in loneliness
because you will be away.
I won't lose my vision or my voice
or preserve them in little folded papers
containing tantrums.
Before the whiteness expands,
you might want to unpack and
leave behind certain parts of you
which are strictly needed.

Cancer

Do I make a cocktail

and pretend like

nothing happened?

Do I mother you

and bear the 

flatulence in my womb?

Do I unmake 

our small history,

into metaphors of everyday life ?

Surplus

When my infinity cannot
hold you any longer
then it is time to realize
that no amount of preparation
is enough

to let go of the surplus

except when it 

is taken away

in strangeness and in war.