Million Medusas

The sunshine lets a spillage of secrets
Fool me into thinking that this is
yet another beginning of my life. The Sixth.

Having loved one too many
You still stun me stiff
like a million Medusas.
I am both paralysed by love and its negation
一necessitation? Nevertheless,

You’ve got me, again, like a pest
Dancing in the very fumes
sent to kill it

Always mid-movement, limbs
bent all the wrong ways,
reeling my words back again
To mix them like paint on my palate
一palette? Perhaps,

What tones could I
Possibly contrive to cover everything
ugly and grim about myself?
Sinking my loved ones in shipwrecks,
A gut that has never known nourishment,

To make you want to frame me up
And kiss my rough edges and paste me on the
roof of your bunk bed? I continue
Mixing the acrylics as I wonder
一wander? Whatever.

Another Orphean temptation
of departure splinters my will,
and a ghastly silence trickles down
the walls of the room we used to inhabit.
Sabotage is a tradition.

Dying, am I, just dying
To erase this fiction一friction一
Prediction,
Of so many untold secrets
I dread no one will want to keep for me.

Unless you, you
You could cope一nope?
Fat hope.

coronot today

so i wonder, where in the minute are we?
through a fortress of masked faces, minds,
never thought the world would leave me

here, i stand far yet stand not free
washing my memories, bordered by lines
wondering, where in the minute are we?

digits skyrocket, into a soundless reverie
under the stars, a joss stick bleeds and blinds,
I never thought the world would leave me

they hope a strange fate shows mercy,
for tangled queues and questions to unwind.
tell me, where in the minute are we?

cradled like a baby in the arms of the big city,
secretly waiting and dreaming feel like crimes.
never thought the world would leave me

maybe one day we will believe, not only see
to have died once is to have lived two times
still, answer us, where in the minute are we?
never thought the world would leave me

SIT DOWN, PAIR UP

two white dresses at a wedding will command stares. 
a change of outfit is not granted; 
there are so many skeletons in my closet
that i can’t tell my backbones from belts. 

i can choose to smile and wave like i 
have always,
a rag doll pinned onto a cork board to be 
sliced, diced, and everything nice. 

to iron out my incompatibilities,
a creaseless palm clutching the smallest of 
infinities that persuade me to let go of
cards that no longer serve purpose

for i am a temporary tattoo,
the last page of a calendar, 
counting down to when i won’t fit the 
occasion anymore 

midnight blues

i’ve been groping for a candle
to melt the blue night away,
a flame on a riverbed you
float above while you hungrily scour
the banks for a heart to stitch you name on.

some permanency i assumed
flakes off the wall i wait behind.
this acrid affection dripping off my chin
can’t be wrung out

in a seashell.
or a pillow.
or a glass bottle.

dried blood on a screw meets
a fresh tide at daybreak.

most candles simply exhale
the vignette of you but
tomorrow will come only if i
melt the blue night away.

a dusty tune starts to soak
the air as i
continue my search.