He Will Give You Flowers

From a stretched car shall come forth

the perfect boy who shall take your hand

on that night you'll say you've finally fallen

in love after swaying and spinning

in a bright dress under lights that are even brighter.

He will kiss your blushed cheek

after this juncture where you

will feel for the first time

you have come into full bloom—

the lady porcelain on posters in your room.

He will give you flowers

prettier that those already hugging your wrist.

You'll realize after he has not taken

just your shivering hand but also your heart,

which, at that moment, shall shiver too.

And we will shiver as we commit this to vision.

Reality is harder to swallow with you

behind glass clearer than our eyes, face blank,

flesh frozen, lips refusing to let go

of secrets whose dwelling could've been our ears.

From the door shall come forth an imperfect boy

who shall take a moment to remember.

He will give you flowers you shall never touch.

(For Nicole)

The Most Dangerous House a Drifter Can Stay In

The most dangerous house a drifter can stay in

is this fragility beyond flesh,

where silence is the flame

dancing in the fireplace, warming his face;

where mourning dictates the pace,

the movement of things,

the stillness of stunned clocks,

and cracks on the wall creeping.                                                 

There is no room

for misstep that can see him

tumbling down the staircase

of reminiscence, hitting his head

against the floor whose planks are memories,

thud making relevant moments

collapse, creating a gaping hole

where there is no room

—no room at all—

for his chest

and its rise

and fall.

Sakura

These soft pink explosions

shall burst in your eyes

the way my senses do

every time you unravel yourself,

petal by pastel petal,

as the lone blossom

in the wasteland of my heart. 

(Published, Metaphor Magazine, June 2014)

Between the Spaces of Falling Beads

If only we were delicate as the faint light

peeling from the edges of clouds

we could've heard the wisdom

between the spaces of falling beads

and walked in the rain finally
despite our misguided fear

of building pools in our pockets.