Sunday morning walks,
I saw the sea like you told me,
Surging and flowing onto new sands,
I saw that little park like you told me,
Clean and sparkling from an early shower,
I saw those baige and peach walls,
Sheltering you from little storms of the night,
I saw the mosque down the road,
In the middle of the sea,
I passed on a little prayer too,
For you, for me,
I turned around, I stood by what you saw.

This sunday morning walk,
Salty eyes and moist lips,
Frescoes and old buildings by the shore,
You were everywhere, yet never too close.

Strange that you look so lost in your tea,
Wish you were as lost in me?
I see nebulae in your ripples of thought,
Are you settling within the war that is your heart?
Strange that light still bends when you appear
In my lonely dreams.

I read about wormholes today,
Under a dark grey sky,
The old man talked about travel between worlds,
Contraction of space and the speed of light.
Would it be unfair to use science
As a reason for love,
And ask you to escape with me?

Midnight parties with fluttering silk gowns,
And you said we will be sorry along the way,
You kept whispering it as we waltzed,
To the night and faint moons of the day.
Do you miss me like I do, the good old me you knew,
That person who stole herself away,
Along with you?

Space might bend and time might agree,
Light is but slow when compared to how I flee
From the absence of your voice and the pain it brings;
These puppet shows and their weak, nimble strings,
Are just a way of remembering,
Tomorrow is another day.

Jet black nights with a tinge of hope,
My skin has grown to adapt to lovelessness,
This hope is but my bread and water,
Lovelessness is the nature of my nights.
Wimpy men walk through the black of my nights.
Their cigars burning through the black fabric.

The smell of cigars is a comforting midnight snack,
I remember when you had your midnight snack with mine,
We sat in silence with your hands in mine,
The cold of your reality broke through our silence,
And out there, I am again, in the cold of the night,
These jet black nights with a tinge of hope.

Above tree tops, through a wet forest,
Where the wind scrapes your knees,
Above the twigs and branches of promise,
All stacked with rumours and hearsay.

This lateral split between worlds,
Of what you need and what I want,
Black suits of truth and the white of lies,
Did you find yourself between the split?

Here I am, scraping my knees,
The parched earth slipping beneath my feet,
Run the knife through your General of doubt
And pin your needles into the map of uncertainty.

Can't you feel the revolution in the wind?
Bits of your land will stand in unison,
Red flags deep in their soil,
Will you run into the arms of thin air?

This should fade too,
Memories are but mere imprints,
This should fade too with time,
Their red flags deep in their soil.

I found your letters beneath lost ground,
I found your love for me then,
Against warred worlds it still stands,
Its red flag deep in its soil.

This autumn of love,
Unexpected and bizarre,
Barefoot, I was born.

Fleeting, knee deep world,
Three degrees of difference,
You jabbed me right in.

Am I your dagger?
Your little love sheath of hope?
Wrapped around your waist?

You slip past me,
Silence feels like a penny,
Cold and distasteful.

This spring of love,
Still undecided for us,
The ice longs to break.

Lazy winter mornings,
The skin scales and frosts,
Breath from another brings alive,
Summer wishes in time, caught.

The grey skies are threatening,
To recite a eulogy of seasons,
Light rays escape just like you do,
For rebellion is all that binds you
With nature and unreason.

I count your sighs,
We are but hungry souls,
Somwhere within your heavy eyelids,
I sheepishly place a begging bowl.

July has begun, winter knows her way,
August will be back to haunt,
April and May are your bygones,
While September is our sarcastic taunt.

Naked we can silently remain,
Beneath these blankets of a future unknown,
Come closer now, let's not spare an inch,
Of all that is there to discover to the bone.

The Burning Ship Fractal

I see you waking,
The burning ship on the horizon,
A fractal of yourself,
Infinitely spurning inside out,
I touch and breathe you,
Every bit of you repeating,
Eternally into you.

Make me the mast,
Or make me the sail,
Make me the propeller,
That propels your fate.
Make me the sailor,
Who kisses your wooden heart,
I long to repeat within you,
A million times before we start.

Fractals fascinate me,
You must be a fractal,
A burning ship within a burning ship,
The longing that leaves
Fervent kisses in my head.
Tattooes on the brain,
Are seldom reversable,
You are the fractal in my head,
Incredibly perfect and incurable.

You are the burning ship,
The burning ship fractal,
That will stay between my eyes,
Repeating yourself eternally,
Till I become the homesick sailor,
Who finds home
Within your salty floorboards.