the-lovers

[the-lovers]

Cinnamon friend

YOU’RE ON MY MIND AGAIN that’s where I always find you—

an angel wing gentle wide shoulders I long to peck and kiss

with cats overhead waking up in your bed tell me of your strange dreams

two pairs of crossed legs my cinnamon friend whom I easily miss

most of my days spent around your Darcy scent it all feels so greedy to wish

you know me well in our soft-spoken realm let me linger just like this.

[the-lovers]

For a while

I’LL BE AFRAID OF TOUCH FOR A WHILE / of getting too close / and being together alone. / For every new person / we’ll be sat in a game of chess / playing with a jaded board / and every choice / I’ll have to think of how / the course of my life / depends on the next step. / But I want to love the world / and claim what is truly mine / I know what isn’t my fault / I know what’s right from wrong / to keep embracing what life shows me. / And still, I’ll be afraid / knowing for that while / how a piece of my word will be held / won’t even be in my hands at all.

[the-lovers]

Love language

I WANT TO DISSECT YOU

like a frog under the knife.

I am an all-seeing eye, and you,

a microscopic cell inside a petri dish.

I'm sorry, my dear, to subject you with

the weight of my profound affection.

You are just so observable,

and each day, a different theory

that I write and prove

into absolute law.

It's a strange phenomenon—

they say that the more I know,

the less you become of a mystery

but that has not always been

the case for me:

safekeeping your prehistory

while learning who you're still becoming;

and treading my fingertips across your skin best

as if it had coordinates of cities—

all points to a single conclusion.

I love you, as a matter of fact.

[the-lovers]

The weight of words

I. An acquired sentiment:

the way my mother sets aside a particular set of plates

to be used only on special occasions;

the way my friend has a favorite shirt

she wears only on happier days;

the way I reserved saying deeper words

for the bigger moments.

II. A childish view of the world:

equating frequency to carelessness;

a fear of meanings losing their novelty;

an inadequate pressure to sound excitingly new.

III. A debunked myth:

because most plates are meant to be used,

not forgotten to collect dust in the cupboard;

because a shirt is favored

and worn even on somber days;

because I speak from a place of abundance,

and the only fruit deprivation bears is regret.

IV. As light as a feather:

like a faint whisper, there is only ease,

and an absence of worry on what used to be imaginary cautions—

every utterance is a steadfast reminder,

an affirmation for what is tirelessly yours.

[the-lovers]

Eventually

I woke up from a dream. A woman whispered to my ear, a prophecy: She says she comes from the future—where she emerges from under the warmth of your skin; where she has your fingers wrapped around her hands like silk ribbons; where she is photographed frame after frame like a tender memory in your eyes.

Before she leaves, she gives me a reminiscent and reassuring smile, as if she holds everything this world has yet to know.

And the world has yet to know—in this mysterious linearity of time—how much I already love you.

[the-lovers]

open your heart

to the vast wilderness

fearful tears well up in your eyes

the distance feels taunting

there is drought in the well of your soul

to know where to go

insecure in its naivety

and still carrying the rotten carcass

of a failed love that mauled you

of an absent love that deserted you

of an unsure love you kept in the shadows

only the scorpions in the sand

and the midnight moon know

of this sad secret

open your heart

even when it all still feels odd

out of place like an oasis

you find right after a sandstorm

it’s okay to bask in its calm sunlight

it’s okay to float in trusted waters

it’s okay to rest under the hush of the palm trees

envelope yourself in the quiet lush of this life

because you’ve walked this far

and you’re never going to

come across this place the same way twice

and there’s relief in that

open your heart

you’re born to be free

no inevitable pain could bind you

a wandering soul, but aren’t we all?

you don’t always have to know

how it feels to want what you never had

you don't always have to walk

the path of a lone ranger

the horizon has a kind promise,

the next love won’t be a stranger forever

you’ll just have to look

and listen to the hymn of the desert:

there is someone out there

tirelessly waiting and wanting

scouring the world just the same

to find you

[the-lovers]

Friends from the Universe

You hold the gravity to my earth,

you keep the ground under my feet intact;

stay even when tectonic plates shift or worse,

our dying sun burns—a sudden collapse—

then it feels like the end of my world

and I shrink inside the quasar, pitch black.

In your space:

I’m allowed to die into rebirth,

I’m a neutron star pulled and returned

into to an orbit as steady as the warmest hearth,

I’m aglow with your love of light years’ worth.

An ode to my closest, dearest friendships. I don’t think I would have gotten through this year without you.

(December 20, 2022 4:10AM)

[the-lovers]

From the archives 2: Stars.

A remnant of the twinkling past whose beaming light did not come to last— it takes miles to reach me, the death of its radiant glow; it takes time to teach me that it is no more than just false hope.

(2017)

[the-lovers]

From the archives 1: Nice Things Shouldn't Feel this Bad

For what I yearn,

time, it took for me to learn.

It is not meant to be earned,

nor make a warrior striped with hurt;

it used to spark so wild and hot it burned.

For what I deserve,

the time has come for its turn—

it is always here, so true and sworn,

a caress full of the sweetest words;

it hums so kindly, its gentle whirrs.

(2021)

[the-lovers]

The Tower

I used to run on fear,

and fleeing was my might

I move when the mist of wolves

chased to tear and bite

I heaved, dug my nails into bricks

I clung onto praise and heights

Up the tower

where the fear of falling

is all I ever know

where I am only seen

because of what I reap

A crackle whips, a fiery beam—

struck and hurt, the earth bellows

It shook and crumbled, all that I believed

and by the gods, I have been seized.

Was it judgement, or was it reprieve?

They answer, “All this was is your relief.”

(2022)