My Hands


My hands

Are stained

By your deep colour


My hands

They burn

From the flames that glow in you


My hands

Are healed

By the foaming waves that twist and turn in your belly


My hands

Are damp

When they slip around on your palms


My hands

Are restless

So they tip toe upon your naked bossom


My hands

They itch

To draw something new upon your canvas


My hands 

Are battered

Fresh against your war torn fists


My hands

Are curious

They ask questions to the answers they think they already know


Your hands

Are open

Patiently spilling out thought after thought 


My hands 

Were forgotten

Discarded like a book that has been read too much


My hands 

Aren’t my hands any anymore

They ceased to bring out the beauty of the moon anymore


My hands 

Have broken their silence

For in the space between us


They have found a new home



Black and white

That’s when I 

See you


You’re beautiful to me


And I’m flawed
And complex

And oh, so mean


What I say could mean

More or less


But it never mattered, anyway

I feel like I know you

Like I’ve known you


That song you play on repeat

All day

I’ve heard it before


Maybe, in another life


You lit one

And I lit another

Talk talks that never happened


Black and white

That’s how I

See you


Your eyes twinkle brighter

Than any star in the night


And I dream of you

Are You Watching Closely?


What are you reduced to?
A shadow
A shade
A mirage

You make me run behind you
Through twisting vines and roots
Soft footsteps guiding my way
In big circles you make me run


Enticing me
Teasing me after her
It matters not where she lead me
For she is what truly matter

Diving into a sparkling pool
I follow her to the depths
Swimming into the arms of tranquility
I follow her to the depths


Into the stars I fly
After her
Ready to chase her to the ends of this world
Who is she?


My eyes rest upon her.
Her beauty is of another kind
She is mine.

I am her, she is me
And in that moment, I knew
We were divine.