Monday, May 25, 2015


We stayed friends throughout; despite our knowledge that we will not forever survive. You held me when my knees couldn’t carry my pain and I held you when your pain couldn’t carry your bones. There has always been a variation on how we saw the world; but the gap gets narrower and my mind wonders off between the shadows of “what if”. Although we excelled each on their own; we have always maintained an invisible channel of flowing memories and songs. I have sealed my receiving end at time, but I have always resorted to the channel when needed and it has always been there for me. We are friends, but not in a conventional sense.

I remain a firm believer of Maktoub, a rigid concept against time and space. This is all past time. We have lived, chosen, and died. This is all a replay of what once had been.

Stay with me forever more. Stay as close and as far, as sincere and as make-belief, as distant and as an undeniably great fuck. Stay with me, even after all this mess sorts itself out, until I stand corrected against the mistakes I have made in a failed attempt to disconnect from my Maktoub.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015


We were, too afraid to fuck those liquids off.
The air was never too cold, neither too hot.
All it took was me seeing, and you breathing.
I am wet when knowing how much you desired me, unapologetically.
This affair was unparalleled. It remains an affair...

The ways to love are as many as the people who love,
An affair remains love,  for the skin and the breaths going in and out of it.
It remains love in the way you seek no other scents to quench that burn down your oesophagus.
It remains love in the way it has to end painfully, only to congeal as eternal in another dimension.

I know nothing of a love more assuring than this, I know nothing of a love more unreliable.
Our souls were heaved in separation, making room for oblivion.

I still look for a feeling so intense, so fleeting.
Now I live to build up longing and wait patiently to release my charge upon a loveless victim.
When all it takes is a glimpse of the fine twists on you hand or neck,
to sweep me back to what once was.