Oubli!

Pain! Pain! Pain nothing can assuage, here therein,  within. Beneath our skin. We peel, tear cut, inhale, to exhale. This is why we do what we do. Dull the senses. Imbibe, rile, indulge, hurt the hurt. Anything! Something! Within. Now. What annihilates:  it,  this,  us, now!

Bond!

there’s no being there when you’re on the phone no being there when you’re texting or emailing  no being there  in words when you leave a place, any place when you by my side, stand or sit hold my hands  hug me close in the arena take space behold me still stand stay  still everything

Falling on Sundays

Sundays are becoming my most loved day of the week  I welcome it with enthusiasm lately It tastes like sweet beginnings When anything can happen and I wait in anticipation It doesn’t lead me anywhere Nor do I impregnate it with ideals or goals And on this Sunday  I spent time as usual on the

Be here

I never ask anyone for much Neither do I expect them to come through It’s always been like that Me, doing me Me doing  Always doing  But once in a while Oddly enough from strangers nonetheless  Something out of the ordinary They see me They see me, hear me to the point  They make room

Before I die

What would I want to improve upon the hand I’m dealt, before I die? If only If only I could see you again Have you by my side To hold hands and walk with you On the beaches in Maui In the rain, anywhere in the world  To feel your hands on my back To