Street side piano man

I was hypnotized as his fingers danced on the keys. Summer night showered its heat upon my skin. Breathless- but I breathed in nostalgia. My heart swooned at every note my ears captured. It felt like falling in love. How beautiful it is to be able to yearn. And to feel the cavity of my chest be weakened by such captivating sounds...

as all around me, Montreal brought back memories of my last visit.

He sat out on the streets, on a stool with the words "Silence sucks" sticker-ed against black. How ironic that I have feared silence as much as loneliness, yet here I am.

Punctuations.

Ends and beginnings are marked by the same punctuation. How I interpret the sentence before and after is entirely subjective. Contextual, even. For it takes time to understand meanings.

Words can trigger feelings. But I have always wondered about how silly it is, that some feelings cannot be put into words. 

Right now, it feels like I swallowed my own heart. A familiar feeling. It is a weird dull ache, in my chest. For which I have no rational explanation for - how paradoxically foreign. But a positive one, I assure. 

bare and windswept;

morning comes,
light stream through sheer curtains-
my shadow disappears
for she no longer recognizes this body

while birds sing sweet greetings
only silence bids by time,
there are fissures under my eyes
yet, i am reminded
that even mountains wear away

dull ache sits in my chest
how sweetly tingling bitter this hints
i still enjoy to faculty to feel

you will forget me,
like the wind that sweeps graceful tall grasses
i am ethereal.

bella luna

my candle flickers-
swooned by your beauty
la lune, ma lumière
it is no wonder
your elegance unclothe contesting hearts
to yearn in idyllic languages
of vows and desire

For every word comes from somewhere,
from places you have visited
and depth of darkness within you.

sway

here is to the softened gaze,
it goes, without saying
no words - letters and spaces
but for once i felt
the spaces between us are filled
where nothingness and something
becoming one thing.

beat, heart -

heartbeat,

i can hear you

even after all the violence of love

the vulgar wounds 

you still burn within

heartbeat,

forgive me

for when i fall and be forgotten

i still feel

all the filth in me

heartbeat,

do not break me.