A Hindu god, an elephant head
Sacred symbols, from a thousand year ago
Clothed in time’s fine delicacies
Beige white silk and golden embroidery
Draped over her ivory beige smooth
Pretty face maiden, like my mom
A crown of flowers on her head
His admiration of me is far away
And I get to learn about
Big picture problems
In the inner circle
Places made of fine earth, tan and beige
Spinning earth, below the mountains and on the valley
There’s a brick wall and people who live in tiny rooms that I enjoy watching
But it gets turned into high rails for a speedy subway systems
That engines through brick gaps and bumps, and I wonder if it’ll throw me out into the ocean while it titters around
Hindu god with the head of an elephant
Ancient beliefs upheld so dear
I dreamt about a god…
She’s in her palace; her head resting on its beautiful marbled floor. She sighs at the way it cools her cheek on such a hot summer’s day. Breeze comes through the large windows and balconies that surround this grand architecture. They tease her wavy hair strands, which in turn tease her face. She’s listless and still, and the only thing constant is her repetitive breathing. Her chest heaves up and down, slowly, bringing life to the stone surroundings. Her long flowy skirt splatters like paint over the beautifully patterned white floor. The atmosphere is impeccable; it’s an intoxicating mixture of floral scents and dampness. Lilies, jasmines, roses, lotuses, and lilacs. She twists and turns, as she slowly rolls to face the high ceiling. There, a green gecko crosses path. She turns to the side, and several ants are marching by. She reaches an arm out and rests her finger on the ground in front of them. They avoid her finger and continue to march around it. This little play makes her smile for a second. Glancing at the ants, their image blur before her eyes as she looks beyond towards the open balcony. There, the bright green banana trees sway under the sunlight. Then beyond them, she stares at the clear blue skies. This is everything she’s ever wanted. This is everything she has. She hears the sound of a sole peacock calling for its lover. It soothes her to sweet sleep.
She wipes away a sweat drop on her forehead as she regains consciousness. Her hairs stick to the side of her cheek when there’s no breeze.
Her heart slowly thuds in somberness. She clenches her long skirt as she twists over the hard marble.
This is everything she’s ever wanted; she reassures her heart,
before it surges into uncertainty once more.
Maybe we’ll always be in this place, where you’ll be the beast and I’ll be…
Forever under this spell
Standing by the cliff and always wanting more
Flying with the dry white dandelions that take me somewhere, higher and higher
In a revolving world inside a glass enclosure
Where I sleep amid flowers
Dreaming as the days go by
Wishing with all my tender heart
For what seems like forever
As the world spins
Under a golden confetti
That rest all around, and over my closed eyes
when the time comes
Now it seems like you were always the truly miserable one. I used to flutter around you like a smiling butterfly; sitting on your nose and then grabbing you with a gigantic hug. I used to giggle at you, face to face, while you remained stone cold and dark. I was like a happy-go-lucky rainbow in front of you, because my misery was you; it was never me.
And now I’ve become as stone cold as you, and I realize that, that back then was never really a misery of mine.
And today, not a million butterflies can make me smile.