Tnemom

In a morning, as you adorned raiment,
my hollows filled you.

In a morning, one moment,
the breeze discomforted you.

In a morning, in atonement,
you pleased the inner fool.

In a morning, in contentment,
you accepted your choice without further ado.

and i accept you.

Wisp away.

such a sad tune it plays in my head. swimming amongst countless thoughts of nothingness, lighting up the way when it enters my mind simulating a mist that washes over my eyes as i stare holes into the wispy air that floats by. mocking my heightened state of mind that counts as a war just north of the eyebrows. the cold grill of this window to oblivion provides rest for my tired neck while i watch the time and rain drip away.

waste away.

so much rain. and yet i feel nothing. no wash over. no comfort by the melancholy. beyond my reach it continues to fall again and again. yet i stare more, in wonder. am i like the wind? everywhere yet nowhere? does the wind, so majestically braving the rain, get drenched in its moisture? is the wind as privileged as i think it is?

does it feel?

cold breezes grazes my eyelashes and then i feel its mockery and venom fills my veins while the guitar strums melodiously, yet monotonously, in my ears. so lonely it is to be me. and the wind. you tried to grasp me, but i escaped through the holes present in your heart. there was never any tolerance to fit me, and yet you still tried to calm my nerves in a dead of night one momentous day. but really, did you really try hard enough?

i am the wind.

you need not tread carefully. you need not fear me. but you forgot. you let slip from your mind that you should never try to enclose the wind in your palms. you let slip from your mind that you should not lead with your eyes open on a windy day for tears may be. you let slip from your mind that you should not constrict your hair and miss the serenity the wind will caress into your senses.

open your palms and feel me.
close your eyes and think of me.
let your hair loose and love me.

"yo no me quedo"

you let me die.

Kiss and tell.

watch me watch those lips open and close and open and close, and i hear naught. yet they glisten a dark amaranth in the dimmed lights from the candles as they dance to the song that can be overheard entwined with the air that lingers into the midnight. watch me watch those lips as i lick them with my traveling eyes where imagination is almost redundant.

watch me.

watch me watch the pools of ebony that make up your eyes, illuminated in a glow every time your curvy eyelashes reveal them to me. their vision set on me urging me, leading me, enticing me, promising me more than the light in them that teases me. i have only seen red roses my love, but tease me not with two black and white ones.

tease me.

watch me watch the luscious hair that seem to caress you, teaching me the right way as you tilt your head slightly to sip golden champagne. flowing down one side of your face hiding cheeks that turn rosy red when they catch my eyes. silken hair just touching your shoulders fall back and reveal to me where my hands should be, stroking your chocolate skin to the back of your neck.

move me.

and then she steps out of her table.
graceful steps one and two.
she's been asked to dance.
she's been asked to move.

she would rather be in my hands. overlooking her shoulder at each opportunity, to see if my eyes have not betrayed her. the red dress flicking at her beautiful shoes. beautiful red prada shoes. i know. i chose them so carefully, to fit this persona. this entity of grace and elegance. this woman. her. she. mine.

won't you come to me?

i stand and move. one steps two. i stop at a pillar and lean against, to watch. watch me watch you, woman. watch me watch you, envying the sides of the silken thread that make up your dress, privileged to dance along with those hips. she looks at me and is careful to hide her eyes from pleading. watch me watch you get frustrated.

gently now.

frustrated by more patience, she loosens her grip on the shoulder and one step two. grabs my black vest by its side and pulls me toward her chest. she glares at me, and rips off her long red gloves and flicks her wrists for me to see it float down to my feet. to feel. to feel my neck. to feel my heat for her. she smells my neck and sighs as fingers entwine and one step two, she leads.

kiss me.

breathless. ever so lightly she licks my neck and nibbles it. look at me. look at my eyes. look at my pulsating chest. kiss me. kiss me you fool, she glimpses. i smile. i know what you want. you know what you want. i want you. and i want you. you fool she says. you don't need me.

you have me.

step. step step. step.

this you i always think of, can be distracting sometimes.
most times.
all times.


step. step step. step.

yes my love, in the red chiffon dress.
my hands sway with the movement of your hips.
nibble my cheek, and squeeze your grip on my vest.
the lure emanating from your luscious lips.

perfore el corazón.

caressing the tip of your nose on mine
lick my neck with your prurient eyes
your fingers arousing the shivers in my spine
your heartbeat tells no lies

béseme.

turn and turn and make me yearn
fall and fall and make me call
smile and smile and make me sigh
kiss and kiss and make me miss

you, when you leave me, hand trailing behind into mine.

Hate is hate. Don't hate it.

i want to quit.

but sooner or later, i will fall into my own abyss. the one i created. and yet i will return to it for its comforts are far beyond material desires.

i am different now. i don't like me now. i like me before. the one who stayed motionless in the realms of my mind and surveyed people with no real intention.

i can hate. i can be evil. i can be more.
why do i need conscience and kindness. why do i so deliberately want to think about you, when in the end, no matter what the situation, i am the one at fault.

and yet at the brink of change i falter. i shiver to take the next step.

should i just trample on emotions as and when i feel so, because they are in my way? should i look out for myself first, then others?

this hesitance, has now given birth to a mirrored version of myself.

a being who hates everyone, and whose arrogance is starting to overflow limits to which control is no more a question. whose proposed intelligence is the catalyst for such behaviour. whose strength is utilised for forcing supression to the heart's messages.

and then, there are leftovers.

tattered remains of myself before the reasons for my diseased ridden pride and soul to split itself in annoyance and reflex to save my mind from turning onto itself.

if you would have me now, or before, you can never have me whole anymore.

i cannot be only yours. because now i am mine too.

and i am liking it.