Crush

Friday, May 27, 2011

We're lying down, in the middle of the basketball court, naming the constellations.
You're talking intensely about God and the symbolic significance of his Commandments;
An undertone of excitement rippling beneath your wisdom, like a child eager to display what he has newly learnt...
She makes occasional grunts of acknowledgement and answers your Socratic questions.
I play the part of the uninterrupting listener.

You're discussing Adam and Eve: it's about obedience, sin, Rules that set us free...
I guess I accept your Answers too, but I have my own theories centered around 'Love'.
My soul disquiet; I think 'Sin' is a cutting word.

But from your words I sense a certain warmth, like God's arms embracing me, gently tucking me in under this blanket of stars
His big hands smoothing my brows, the tender touch of stardust..
I liked hearing God's name again.
Your nasal voice becomes the loveliest melody, your words the most beautiful lyrics.
Absorb His grace through every pore, take everything in.
I soak in this splendour, marveling God's diamonds
Counting the number of frauds.

she's not here @

3:30 AM

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Things i never forget.

How we used to lie on your bed every weekend, how you would pull my head onto your chest, and I would fall asleep..
And dream like a baby would. Hands and faces and worlds.
You cooked the best pastas and whispered the sweetest words.
*
How we were too lazy to go outside, content with a space containing just the two of us.
You would lift me up to sit on your kitchen counter, our lips engaging..
On what our mouths want to eat.
*
How we were... I recently remembered that I once beheld you as the most beautiful person in the world.
I had forgotten and I'm sorry.
I remember it now, how your eyes crinkled when your thin lips smiled.
*
How you would pat me twice on the head, and kiss me tenderly..
Your Shea-butter-smell.

I learnt from somewhere, that our lives are a sequence of rooms, and what makes up our lives are these rooms and the people in it.
I like the idea of our lives being a sequence of rooms.
Little packets of smells and feelings and conversations
Then finally when the time comes, I will leave quietly, and shut the door.

The rooms remain untouched in my memory like frozen fragments of time.
I visit them every now and then, and let the illusions consume me.

she's not here @

5:22 AM

Someday my pain

she's not here @

5:07 AM

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The house quiet, the steps quiet
The time of the day when people are somewhere
And doing things

The growing agitation, the air electric
The sky turning dark not because it's twilight..
It's hungry for release

Feelings, like clothes draped on bamboo poles
Limp.
And drenched, because we forgot to keep them in

she's not here @

6:02 PM

Tuesday, May 03, 2011

It's soon to be my birthday again. I hate it, because it's a reminder of how I haven't grown stronger at all.
On my birthdays I always think of death. It's ironic and I'm sorry.

But it seems like I'm preparing myself for that day.
Drawing this neat circle around me, refusing to let anyone step in, refusing to let anyone rely on me.
Because I'm that unreliable, because I'm a person, whom, may anytime leave.

she's not here @

5:29 AM

Been spending tons of money on clothes bags shoes and whatnot, and it just occurred to me lately that I may be trying to use these frivolous things to fill up my void. 'Retail therapy'- they even have a term for it- except it's an inexorable vicious cycle, because my void is endless.

she's not here @

4:52 AM