a daylight dream

  it takes only a while for me to wonder whether I was only dreaming. was it really us in all these illicit affairs? the clandestine sneaky steps I take in the freshness of dawn’s air, the first streaks of ambrosial sunshine so sweet painted on my cheeks. the stars in your eyes that lighten up the moment I see you, and everything else so cryptically cocooned in secrets, coded in colour between me and you. how sweet october is. holding your hand in the car, a language I never knew I’d know. my touch was almost cursed, turning everything into an amusing labyrinth of sadness. but it’s not like that anymore.  convoluted, branched, soft, tight,  right . your hand in mine. our fingers melting into one another. it takes one moment of us longing into one another’s eyes to find ourselves leaning back, losing ourselves in each other’s oceans. one leap and I drown, drifting into the depths of your fingers on scared spaces of a body I always thought was out of bounds. you pull me in, your breaths

  I have few words to say to you, but much to do, and even more to express through every fingertip of mine. a prayer lost in time sent in the shape of you. a blessing. a gift that makes us become one, too. words fall apart when I’m loved by you. 13.10.2023

  it’s been as tormenting as a caterpillar’s ascent towards its first day of sunlit flights. the growing pains of moving forwards despite the cobwebs of my past chaining me down— one turn of my neck enough to show me how ugly it is, how inevitably haunting it will be, too, and that there is this one little possibility that I might never be  free . and here I go, still a caterpillar, and my head completely soaked in novel sunshine. some kind of morning glory. a bold, striking statement of enlightenment and steadfast growth. it’s downright  terrifying . and here I am, my smile as bright as this endearing October sky. I’m radiant in all the soulful abundance my soul can finally touch instead of flee away from. it’s all well. all is saved. the greatest war has commenced, and the frontline— confrontational strategies and heart-searing weapons— well-arranged. receiving grace. yet, sometimes I wonder who it is here. where do I begin? where have I gone? someone new is taking my place. someone

those eyes of yours were never dead. lurking like a ghost in even numbers, recurring decimals that never disappeared.   it was never dead to me. each time it was brokenness, every time it was the doubts in my affairs. every time an excuse of a different shape— to run into the ellipsis of a fairytale. it was never dead when I saw your body in the middle of the night instead of his. the sturdy intensity of a pillow my head sinks in. the ‘oh’s buried within me. the fire searing in your chest. the apologies I never let you have. the dream of your eyes spinning around the gravity that pins you down—  me . they say death brings forth the clear soulful wisp of truth; so maybe that’s why I had to kill you. just to see you. just to know you the same way I knew I’m killing a part of me, too. the unfixable in me is dying to be fixed. the unknown in me is screaming to be seen. the string of lights in my darkness is bursting just to glow. why did it take all this time to know? so hold me close. in