all the said
and all the done
cannot hold up
for what has now begun

sometimes
it's the story
we wanted
sometimes
it's the fact
that we wanted
a story
at all

erase every memory
turn over every frame
burn every kindling of hope
and put an end to the game

we build houses
and force them to be homes
such a deliberate dream
for the shoulders of benign brick
for no brick ever built a home

in the midst
of endless aridity
i had planted
a tamarind tree

it's a loot
and you run
just for what you want
a ribbon-wrapped box
with a pitiful broken heart

a grasp she had such
that you'd only feel her warmth
a grasp that perceived real ties
long before reality saw them form

who knows
what another's heart
looks like from the inside
where do you find the love lost within
and where does their grief reside
which way do you take to reach
the one who smiled right into your eyes
and which turn was it that led you
to this place that you just can't recognize

ask the one
who opened the door
if this would suffice
or she'd want some more

i lie
handpicked yet stale
within the book
you've turned many pages over

bereft

turn away
do I not see
you turn away
and soon, it's just me

lest

we forget

infinite means differently

think time, think love

or think distance

life does not go
the libran way
they never balance
the things you weigh
no word for my words
no shared dreams to delight
no garden stories for us
and no reassuring sunlight
instead, an omnipresent penalty
for seeking to play fair
the dissonance, the distance
and the sense of living unshared

in the mirror
where i should be
is it an amusement
that you see

in the days
that i seek to fill
your mindless devouring
my senses don't hold still

in the story
that i seek to weave
the themes run empty
and the characters leave

in the mirror
where I should be
there's just an amusement
that you're eyes wish to see

an abyss
it's no longer a gap
not even a distance

in her eyes
a question masked
do you remember
it pretends to ask
the wind that night
the steps to the sea
and the starry delight
as you veered towards me

a mellow yellow
shade of loneliness
to cover the grey patches
of being with and yet, without

the small change
of intentionality
in the bargain of joy
as we buy things
that were not offered
and sell those
we could never again afford
everything depreciates
like the shine on the new coin
of intention or the value of
that prized first ownership
of homes, hearts and dreams

after having roleplayed
our definite scripts of happiness
we struggled and tussled with reality
that illimitable untamed reality

would a sunflower
stuck into my hair
or the lilt of a song
or a smile more bare
color me a little less wrong?