question marks on green

tottering on a high
i watched her sleep on questions
and i watched him watch her
and he wondered
and it is quite sad
because i knew
all the answers
but i had not the power to speak

but i could not snatch away
his hope that thrives on
the questions

so i just silently blessed
the uncertainties that
hover between them
knowing that
some riddles
could not just bear
to be solved

yule

it is not good to go 
into the winter with 
a broken heart.
you see, the ice
can seep into the brokenness,
the cold will stiffly
hold the pieces together,
and it is so easy
to mistake the frosting over
for a healing of sorts.
it is so easy to
feel the heart an iceberg
that can shatter ships,
a heart that is not fragile,
yet envying the gentle beauty
of snowflakes.

like a book

like a book
left open
in the middle
of a chapter
left face down
on the table
meant to be
returned to
sometime after
the interruption:
a knock on the door
a phone ringing
a gnawing hunger
for something
other than food

the story pauses
every character stops
even the wind stills
holds its breath
everything
is suspended
lips left open in half-speak
a hand held indefinitely 
in mid-air
meant to wave
a farewell
a goodbye postponed
put off
a parting
frozen
the bodies
have separated
but the entrails
of the heart
have yet to be severed
from the other

the story ends
eventually
towards its predestined plot
and the interruptions
had yielded
no expected face
no expected voice
and the gnawing hunger
remains

the deal

we shook hands
to seal
our non-commitment.
we agreed,
no commitments.
not a fling.
not an affair.
not a relationship.
even friendship is dubious.
so we made a deal.
we float in a limbo
of non-commitment.

so we laugh,
share secrets,
hold hands,
hug,
call up each other,
miss each other,
stick together, 
but no commitments.

(and sometimes i wish we could unshake our hands)

them

when you hold my hand,
do you think of them?
them whose mere existence
could wrench us apart
no matter how tightly we grasp.
them who would unclasp our fingers
so easily
because they had already loosened up
our faith
in our possibilities
in each other

because it is impossible
to remain untouched
there will always be
the extra baggage we lug around:
the jealous mother
the disappointed father
the suspicious sibling
the insecure friend
the broken expectations
the derisive laughter
the silent shakes of the head
tsk-tsk-tsk
pity
fool
stupid

poems for sebastian	revisiting ruins	musings	a crooked path
a man of god	old times	spaced out	stars too bright

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