Missing

Summer nights when the air is perfumed with
barbecue and peppered with a gamut of
sounds blasting from windows and speeding cars.
The chatter of get togethers with the
occasional scandalous uproar of laughter.
Summer nights that sizzles with heat
even after the sun sets, mosquitoes mark us in
our sluttish outfits. We cool off while smelling
like the sweltering outside which dreams and
longs for a breeze to soothe the thickness of
the atmosphere. We use to gather with our
homemade delicacies given as an offering, a
ritual of the time welcoming a blaze of
fireflies saying good evening.

Grow-back Like A Starfish

I do not need to compose anything about you…
There are so many descriptions of the same theme
where you are expressed in varying degrees of dissection

as cells
stems
branches, unexamined
yet an example of…

I will not pretend to know your knowledge…
There are so many competing ways
which are all reacting to the same ‘model’?

as a gift
they are shared
as soft screams
they remember…

I will not be stolen by our brutality
which grieves in silence of its learned dejected shame
gone, only when reached by that recognition

loaded with all that is hurtful, instead of asking why…
‘ruined’ by handling the deadliest, the begrudge of wonderings …

Which completely loves you?
Is not that the ‘Universe’ speaking?