to be unnamed

This poem is inspired by Call Me By Your Name & was written with Visions of Gideon playing in the background.

If Heaven is built on white lies,
then let me believe for the last time
that your breath can run into mine,
giddy with love; you and me, likewise.

But why is it that every time our lips
collide, I can’t taste anything beyond
the quiet? Tell me, when will the thought
of you stop clouding these closed eyes?
Don’t forget the rain and wistful smiles.

Hey love, am I still allowed to call you
so? I suppose names were never our own,
gifted to us by others, so our entirety can
be condensed into palpable syllables,
rolled over the tongue, bitten into and
chewed on until the flavour fades
or tastes suddenly change.

I truly thought I was okay until time
reminded me of its unpredictable path
from now until tomorrow, here I am again.
Silence stretches out as long as a
sleepless night, and I am unlearning desire,
like feeling itself is a bad habit, brea
king words until they lose all meaning,
writing about you until I forget the way
I used to whisper – your name.

Continue reading “to be unnamed”

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villanelle in the sky

sky-589982_1280.jpg

I have always wanted to fly,
but the sun burns sickly bright,
and I am much too scared to die.

Don’t we all dream of blessed light,
shadowed by wings unfolded up high?
Aren’t we all born wanting to fly?

But mother gifted feathers not fit for the sky,
and life-altering wax is too hard to find,
eyes on the ground, too scared to die.

Then the storm hit in the dark of the night,
the winds did scream and clouds did cry,
heaven is just as absurd as wanting to fly.

Alas, no time to dwell on man-made lies,
eyes straight ahead, forget the idealised,
it does not matter if we want to fly,
life is wasted on being too scared to live or die.