Monday, June 29, 2015


Great expectations we have
but I don't know how to put words in our story,
in the conversations while I look at you
or maybe I just want to look at you
without words
I am searching for the brushes again,
for the charcoal and paints and canvas
but I don't know how to paint you
would you be my benefactor?
clinching our destinies in the fist 
abiding by the rules of your coming from future -
hold my fingers
help me trace your veins
tilt the body and let me lambaste it 
with my lips -
help me paint again,
paint you, paint the moon
paint each strand of hair
a different color
of all the people in the world

I don't know what to do with myself
dismissing seconds and minutes and hours 
and time
in its whole
to the crater deep inside my mind
while I see your real pretty body
and your unadulterated movements
all around myself

but for now, help me paint again
maybe dip my hands into the paints
or hurl them all over me,
or kiss the cherries upon me
and take me to the world
where I just paint
at all the times of the life
our life, I preserve it 
The seagulls just behind our place
help not give away the love sounds
and I color myself all colors
to pluck your love in all motions

One day people come and
look at those paintings
maybe in my own show,
doubting and criticizing and
admiring and ignoring the meaning they seize
for themselves
You look at me and see
what I left in each of those paintings

and you and me,
we are not slave to words.

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