GAN EDEN

there is a world where everything i used to believe

still exists.

It's buried under my ribcage,

next to my most precious arteries

and bones,-

and it festers

and burns

and hums

and cries.

LOVE (again)

Am I being unreasonable? There's no way of knowing, when it's just the two of us, two flawed logics dueling in the dark.

And the path is corrupted henceforth.  And the trust has been broken. And all of the careful illusions I had placed around you are starting to fade.

THE METRO PEOPLE

grey black bronze
stuffed jeans with care
beady eyes and infants
sweaty, warm hearts
and toy parts
spilt beverage on my seat
the wrenching knobs of scheduled stops
whooshing breath
girl with bow
And all at once-
large laughter awakened
by the freckle-faced teen
on planted platform.