Gliding star

The star
With each passing glimpse
Glides higher up in the night sky
While my love for you is the same

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Yin Yang

Maybe it’s time, I don’t know, it happens every late morning
And once in a while before bed…
This feeling of total control over my life
It’s like magic, with tricky hands
I can see where the ball strikes next
And wins.
It’s like that in your harried presence
It’s your commanding glare
Looking at my
Dirty skin and hair
But I didn’t fear that one time
I looked at you
And once more, it was an empty room
Full of eyes
Fire on fire
Ice on ice
Yet you behaved oblivious
And I used to wish that you’d know it
But now
I can feel the humid summer night breeze that strike
And resonate like the way of stringed instruments
Whose sound move to the flow of the ocean waves
And indicate
Somewhere in the depths of your holy soul
The dirty scumbag
That you wanna scratch clean with your finger nails
And get down and dirty on the ground with

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Orange flood of light

Back in the time of Vishvamitra,
Making love under the sunlight
Your hand on my hand
And an orange flood of light
Warm hues in the sky, earth, and the seas
Yellow mellow scents; orange blossoms and a crowd of marigolds
A joining together type of feeling
A trusting zen-like breathing

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Last one at the end of the circle

It’s another season, and the planets have run down that same old circle. You’ve packed your bags and moved up to another mess, and me, it’s come down to me kneeling on the ground gasping for air, unable to breathe, dying. This is me. The one who’s supposed to get it. But what do I know? Squat. I’m afraid I’m nothing but worse than you. Fearful, insecure, irrational, crazy, and troubled. The sun’s going down and the darkness is closing in. The walls are coming together to contain me in this jail. I’ll still be here. My hair matted and in knots, my clothes ripped. Crying and drooling saliva. A being without a shell. A bundle of nerves. I’ll be rolling on the floor here, tasting dirt while tears burn my eyes. I can raise my arms out in a prayer. I can rip my clothes away and try to feel as human as I can; try to feel the air on my skin, the way the sweat drips down the side of my stomach. But I’m afraid no one wants to listen to the ultimate loser. I’ve failed. All these years of building myself up, only to go toppling fucking down. I’m afraid the only place to fall into is the absolute rock bottom. But I’ve fallen way too hard, too many times. And no one ever did it to me. Who’re you trying to prove yourself to sweetheart? You are the queen, the one who catches the sun between her fingers. The one who holds her head up high and stands on the mountain top looking at the big picture. You hurt her.

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Red planet

Here I am, in the red planet. The atmosphere here stings my skin as I sit alone in this arid dust bowl. The sky’s red and it’s making my eyes bleed. My crimped hair’s brittle and it obscures my vision. My throat’s dry and I squirm on the rocky ground in dreams of quenching thirst. My mouth thinks it’s water, but I’m eating dirt. It gets inside my fingernails. It smears across my face. I grab a handful of it and let it squeeze out of my clenched fists. Am I even human anymore? Am I a machine? Am I an empty shell? Am I just dying slowly and awaiting to be filled by your holy water in the palms of my hand?
Release me in the downpour of a summer’s rain.
Let it splash across my face like being roped in the tides of your love.
I think of jittery visions of your powerful arms around my waist from a thousand years ago, and your tender kiss underneath the waterfalls in paradise. I can warp back in time to when the world glowed before my innocent eyes, and you saw it from across the room and then asked me out.
There was a world once where the birds flew over the rainforest, and we made love on the ground after a spell of laughter. There was a time when the sun set and you followed me to the beach, and I saw its beautiful reflection in your striking eyes. Redo the moment when I was pinned against the wall and I believed in your promise of true love murmured near my ears. There are wires deep inside that bond to my brain and it recollects your hidden flesh. It resurrects before my eyes in a way that’s truly holy. If there’s god, I believe in one and it’s in the form of your warm-blooded body. Your body, that of a Greek god, naked and pale stands before me. Is it you, or are you a flickering image prerecorded and absent? I reach out my crooked finger to touch you but it just passes through. My eyes squint and blink sporadically while they shut. Let me believe that I’m not dreaming. Wake me up and tell me that we’re sitting in back of the taxi cab once more near the city shores. The city is so alive and the air is humid and hot, and there’s sweet scent of your warm breath tantalizing over my neck. I reach to cover it. My teeth are chattering. My body is shivering in cold. A wave of sediments blow and deposit over it, and I wonder how long I’ll live like this.

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