The past hides behind translucent draperies
as the present muddles with ruminations of lovers strayed.
Memories are stories of disintegration,
particles of emotions spread out in a non-linear path.
Pain, tenderizer of the soul.
Sometimes, I am none the braver,
startled by the subtle brush of a strand of hair.
My longings are blurred polaroids of scenes,
stills stationed against black screens
cross fading in silent dreams.
Life, temporary flight: butterflies fluttering in the midsummer air.
I’m tormented by the remnants of an ancestry, a barely there legacy.
I kiss the flowers reaching out for sunlight beams,
the sun kisses me back; its touch settles in my skin.
Blackness polished, glossier than polished sins.
I’m but a speck of universal effluvia, riding in a Galilean moon
orbiting through rings of cognizance
embroidered by an angelic loom
freed into the vastness, dropped into infinitude.
A boy sits in my bed, oceanic feeling reduced
a lover descendant of Saturn’s rings
now sleeps amongst the nebulous musings
in my room.