Untitled: Thoughts of Her

I think of her softly,
the way she moved and the things she said.
Even now, she moves through me,
even as the rain softly falls on the windows.
Someone said you should love,
yet I want to tell them to go fuck themselves,
for love has broken my heart into a thousand pieces.
Yet, still, I sit and think of her,
the little ways she made my day bright and happy,
how we talked about everything.
I miss her sunflower soul dearly,
for her soul calmed me through my many storms.
Me, alone with my broken heart;
I keep the sadness close to feel her.
Sitting in my seat;
on the train, her face and eyes come to me
as the rain turns into icy pieces of snow.

The Riverside Willow

The two of us stood in this place on countless occasions,
as you talked to me about so many unimportant topics.

I listened to your words, not because I cared for them;
I listened to your talk because I knew the hunger
for your flesh and blood would be satisfied soon enough.

The way you looked at, “the big old elegant green one
with unkempt hair like mine” was a woman’s talk to me,
yet it never moved me.

I think of you, and I play your mannerisms, your face,
your voice, your speech; I play them over and over in my
mind so that I will never forget.

The riverside willow of you. The unkempt hair that hung
around your beautiful face, like the weeping willow
branches hang down into the river, is all I have left of you.

I realised too late that your time with me here in this
place was more important than only the hunger, which
is all I knew, for your flesh and your blood.

Your flesh and your blood was my desire for you, yet
your words, your actions, your love, and you,
the unkempt hair you, was the reason for my hunger.

A Foreign Memory

The sound of an Oud moves a foreign memory to the fore of your mind as you walk through the streets of a foreign town as a foreigner.

They look at you with different coloured eyes, yet you look at them with the eyes of a person unseasoned in the ways of the world.

The smell of Rose Water, Orange Blossom, and mint tea reminds you of another memory from before you were whom you appear to be now.

A market tempts you to buy material possessions you thought you would never own, as something about the items takes you back.

The touch of a warm breeze moves your legs towards a place of Olive and Oleander, as the memory becomes a reality and you know

why you came to this place.