The demon sitting on my chest
Is the only weight I feel
I’m the pet, it’s the master
It commands and I steal

I thieve myself
Of my time and peace
Clanging chains deafen me
And I, respond only to the leash

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Summer Soliloquy

When the afternoon thought it could gauge the energy seeping out

Of my body as I lay sprawled in the summer heat

Not a thought of you lancing my thoughts, at all

But some deserted town within me echoed as I slipped

Into a slumber

 

Slipped into a slumber I wake up with my arms

Locked around you in yearning and yours

Yours wrapped me in the remembrance

I have spent years of my lonesomeness eluding

 

But in my waking hours when you visit as a memory from a siesta

Dull aches erupt in my chest, shapes of your words giving them form

Your words, memories and exactness of which, are gone

And I refrain from adding cliché to this monologue

To abstain from saying,

“And so are you.”

 

I witchness

Into a new character I shall writ myself today

Birthing a perspective till now concealed

A sapling I’ll plant and its nature, reveal

 

Not a forest of abundance and prosperity

But one of, twisted boughs and thorny vines

Bewitching!

 

I am, I am

Controlling the realms I flow into

The rawness of wounds I give

Cut from minerals of my steel

 

I declare, painting myself as a witch

Only a cacophony of denials I meet with

Yet

Clutching their unfortunate chests they claim

My affections to be holy and pure

Unbeknownst that barbs and marred skin

Feel the same

Night Vision

We were merely two wolves
Carrying embankments in our howling chests
Falling for our moons, in reflections of disturbed ponds
Acquaintances we were, of parallel woods
Not much thought spared
Other than the occasional, the customary
We were merely two wolves
Streaking through the wilderness
Within and without
Barely touching borders
Barely touching
Each other
And now nights roll out, carpets of moss to tread on
I hear you, I hear us
Soft padded thuds, footsteps or simply what we feel?
We howl, not echoing each other
For we let out the sorrows clawing our subdued eyes
Can I rest my tired head against your shoulder?
Guarding these walls has drained me
The reminders ache in the form of thorns embedded
Underfoot
Trespasser
Can I rest my head against yours?
It’s a quiet place of peace
Where our borders merge
A silent breathing space of no-meaning
Yet as we breathe us in, I wonder
When did darkness become a silhouette
Of warmth?

Names Ache, Namesake

 

Imagine a fragment of the universe
The layout of galaxies flickering
In the blackness
Swirling, spiralling, in and out of each other

Pulse. Flicker. Pulse.
Here, horizons don’t exist
But we do
Hypnotic
We share more than a name
This must be what it’s like to, just, be
We have encircled each other for far too long

Two clouds of mist, shapeless, formless
Merging, emerging
Conversations, not interacting
Just upending
The contents of these bodies and minds
Of celestial matter they say we are
‘Mass’
Yes, mass, that must be it

The mutual heaviness, the synchronized unloading
Do you feel this
I’d place your gentle hand over my heart
If you were here
Yet we can feel the tides and maelstroms
Raging in us in response
To each other
Do you think the pianists of old could compose a masterpiece so simple?
I doubt.
But it’s us and I love it
I love the sense of echoing quiet when we converse
In abstract fragments but both know
The picture by heart
A picture with a feeling
Of ripples in rivers surging within
Laps of soothing melody
Has it been said before? Sometimes names are magic
I like this feeling, we should talk more often
What are you? Fuck. You’re magic.
Life doesn’t seem so scrambled like eggs right now
Or like constellations dispersed throughout dark ceilings
Flicker. Pulse. Flicker.
Back to stars and galaxies
Things my puny existence does not understand
We should leave science to the scientists and astronauts
And the understanding of us to our explorations
Swirling, spiralling in and out of each other

Namesake.
Names… ache.
We ache together
We wonder, we find
To our explorations
From sloppy kisses to our analogies
Of the fullness and lack of meaning
In the fragile moments of lip-lock stillness
The void they’re invitations to

“Come meet me at the edge and let’s fall together”

We express. We echo.

And so we ache under the burning light of nights
And days, a shadow choreography
Of flickering tangerine

We can dig graves
And our hearts
Be grave robbers
There’s always something to take
From the dead
So we sigh and speak lyrical
We are paintings of our cubist selves
We’re the same picture
Cubism is what it has been
You and I
Identical, cubed, differently arranged
Pulse. Flicker. Pulse.
Namesake,
I love you.