winter cuts

You unfold in my memory

like winter cuts

that appear out of nowhere

recognized only through pain

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Separate Dinners

We make separate dinners

side by side

on the same stove every night

Carefully navigating through

our pots and pans

It’s amazing how flawlessly

our utensils never come in each other’s way

I can smell the aroma of your dish

You can hear the sizzle of mine

We use the same ingredients from different packets

The pile of dishes is always bigger than it should be

it’s funny they get washed together, though

At least at the end of the day there is a clean kitchen

Who knew?

We could co-exist like that

Even Today

Even today
When my skin tingles
The voice in my mind gets
too loud or too silent
My heart boards the turbo train
and threatens to get off track
I look for you
Miles of time
Sore truths
Salt lines dried out
Smiling old memories
A closure too late
Hanging between us
Even today
I look for you

Light one in your heart

Tonight as you blow the candle

light one in your heart

of love and laughter

courage and warmth

flickering compassion

let it catch fire

in the years to come

let it be

your Bright, filling the dark

let a lonely soul

stand in your glow

shower

burn out

light one, again

Comity

No longer vexed

by the sand tickling our naked feet

we sit by the beach

throwing stones over the stretched waters

forgetting the ones that drowned

rejoicing the ones that skipped

one, two, three or seven times

making the best of the moonlight

 

Oh! Little Warrior!

You are still not over it

If the mere sound of it

activates a warning bell

like in a war zone

Run! Run! Run!

Oh! Little Warrior!

wait

stop

breathe

look

it’s dark, but keep looking

you will find it, the light

settle in

it’s going to be a while

keep a watch

don’t let go

until it speaks to you

your light was always inside you

Hey, little firefly!

“See, you did it!”

 

 

Rediscovered Love

hdr

Two pretty pencils; one red, one yellow

Sitting in a jar right in my view

Reacquainted with them last Sunday

Like an old player out of practice

Found them doodling, gliding across the page

not in angry haphazard mazes

but colors of a full blown spring

Tips pointing, not towards you not towards me

but upwards like a bird preparing for flight

Creating and recreating

not boxes to contain

but wings to fly

2B, 6B, 1H, 4H, HB

hard or soft worked just fine

Fell in love with pencils again

They still draw

not lines but words.


It’s amazing to to make peace with things you thought you will never be able to look at again. One does found love again. Just keep looking for the light and once you find it, keep following it. Perspectives do change. Hang in there! 🙂 Love n Peace.

 

 

 

Through

The yellow keeps

resting on the skin

distant; out of reach

Cut through!

seep;

flow in my veins

disturb;

the nucleus of my bones

bleed;

all numb, all blue