our lips raw with love

you gave me everything you had 
and I offered you what was left of me

i don’t sleep

i pace

i ponder 

i plot

i plan 

i worry

i wonder

i wax

i wane

i relive

i regret

i rethink 

i rehash

i contemplate  

i evaluate

i deliberate

i speculate

i ruminate

i analyze

i strategize

i dramatize

i fantasize

i brood

i delude

i stress

i obsess 

i digress

i’m a mess 

and i don’t sleep. 

Today

I gave a rupee to an old bum who looked the way I feel. 

Sometimes

I close my eyes and all the world drops dead
sometimes, I lift my eyes and the world is born again

Sometimes I dream that you bewitched me into bed
and sung me moonstruck and kissed me quite insane

Sometimes I think I made you up inside my head.
and
Sometimes I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. 

Quotidian Blindness.

There is a hole in the back of your head, the sun shines into this hole. You are denied a glimpse of it.  It could be your face. Others “look into it” the most public, promiscuous part of your body is invisible to yourself. How obvious. The thing that kisses, sneezes, whistles and moans is a hole more private than our privates. You retreat from this dreadful hole into this strange and mundane blindness, the blindness of your face to itself. You want light a cigarette or fix yourself a drink. You want to make a phone call. To whom? You don’t know. Of course you don’t. you want to phone your face. The one you’ve never met. Who you are. 

slaying demons...

we are fading

memories of you
peeling off my subconsciousness like
paint from a fading fresco


we were beautiful once