I can’t see your face when we talk,
Your eyebrows going up and down,
Your lips the shape of a Chinese roof
And more often like an eagle’s wings.
Your forehead drowns me every time
As does a scary deep ocean
On which waves of lines smirk and smile,
Enough to say what’s on your mind.
Your eyes, those gateaux for my soul,
Limpid with so much flirts and whores,
To my heart’s beat open and close,
In my dreams are a wise man’s lore.
Why I feel your skin and taste your moan,
While we’re making love on the phone,
While we’re distanced by shores, I don’t know.
God knows each day I love you more.





I don’t hide the truth because I just can’t.
I can only cover it like the sun
Laughing, dancing, effulgent, wild, and mad
Behind that palette kaleidoscopic,
Soft, pristine, virginal, silent, and still.
I can’t define truth because I must not.
A measured, standardized truth is a lie,
That one bird whose wings are cut, that can’t fly;
That one song whose lyric is pretty yet empty,
And whose only strength forgettable melody.
I must not define truth because there is not one:
There are truths, half-truths, some breathe out black smoke, some white;
Positive, negative; chilly days, summer nights.
A painting more truthful, whose lines both blurred and defined,
That truth, like a chiaroscuro of light, is divine.



via Daily Prompt: Vice


My brain is telling me to stop,
But my heart, high and wise, just can’t.
When I see you I always see
Colors, clouds, heavens, and angels
Walking so tall, pleased, and erect
Like my dreams and my sense of self.
So many times I’ve been told to quit,
But never have I tried to yield,
‘Cause if I do it would be death—
Death so shameful I can die twice.
I’m sure I can never stop you
From seducing me. I should know,
I’ve known you since the beginning:
You’ve played with me, you’ve played on me.
I am stupidity genuine, sublime;
You are the sweetest suicide worth a try.