We used to come here when our blood was pure
And the only intoxication we needed was the wind
The salt
Of the water that spoke with the sand.

When our logic betrayed us
And the sun seemed to dissolve amidst the blue
Stealing light
From the corners of eyes.

Then you aged like grapes in cellars
And I like rain-trodden steel,

Wading crystals
Finding, feeling, knowing
Till I couldn’t breathe
No more,

Maybe I’ve thought this before.


Bad People

You must be vicious, to drain the flesh from my blood and circumvent the essence of my time.

You must be hasty, to rush my brain with queries of what-ifs and what makes me chime.

You must be jealous, to think my soul belongs to people and places you can’t even climb.

You must be frivolous, to acquaint me with beauty yet thwart my design.

You must be foolish, to think that your delinquencies have left me with anything other than calling you mine.

The Sun devoured horizons as celestials tuned out;
It woke flowers from ritual slumber
And beasts from blindness,

Glittering streams in meadows conversed with knolls
Multitudes of forests abreast,

With elf-like whimsicality
Billowing clouds commenced a tango,
The breeze ducked and hurdled rocks and shrubs
In search of another landscape,

It reeked of otherworldliness
And still, no one thought it was Paradise.