sonnet one hundred forty

the gnawing cold and abrasive
wind reminds me just how
much warmth there is
when we sit close to each other,

your eyes intent in its stare,
as if no moment would
soon meet its death, as if
a fall could ever be gentle,

now, thriving on 'as if's,'
we are prisoners of an
undisclosed yearning and of

an immeasurable light,
unfixed, unsteady, escalating,
drowning the sense of sadness.

sonnet one hundred thirty nine

a still, brave, singular perspective
of you - your gift, your sin,
your peace, your havoc,
a faint cry of despair

hanging to the threads
that weave our memories
together, of the laughters
that humbly remind us

of what we could be,
your arms is exactly where
my anguished depth

exists, awaiting to be maimed,
owned and conquered,
awaiting to ascend.

sonnet one hundred thirty eight

and the harmony captures
the light ignited by a thousand
deep, atrocious, delirious
seconds lashing for your

intent and craving for your
energy, swords abandoned
and armors fall, drawn to
the victory of finding you -

and keeping you, bound to
the wrist of timelessness
offering the shattered

retreat of this heart
claiming the broken web of
its willing slave and origin.

sonnet one hundred thirty seven

trapped in the crest of
loneliness, the blood of this
battle heighten and dissemble
the veins that long for you

constantly, breaths heave
in warring silence, eyes seething,
skin burning like an ember
in a dense, cold midnight

done with deceit, and there
never was a surrender to things
without faith, there never was

a defeat in the songs i gave
only you - there is only clarity,
there is only endlessness.

sonnet one hundred thirty six

among the ruins of words
that escaped our thoughts,
of scars that found its way
through the cracks of oblivion,

among the night clouds
drifting silently, writhing in
the vines of agony our tears
drip through ancient hues

among the unquenchable rays
of the sun, my hands seek
the forbidden, an angle and a truth

among ripples of the stricken
desire, this fire bends and begs
for one more revolution.

sonnet one hundred thirty five

taken out of what made sense,
we are lost in the labyrinth
of our inabilities and excuses,
and argue our way through

and out of a misunderstanding,
thinking that maybe nothing
is as deep as our own
emptiness and dread

here is another call for
you to forgive me i could
not see what you see

or i could not hear what
you mean, here is another call
to start all over again.

sonnet one hundred thirty four

basking in the totality of
your being, regardless if it
is breaking half the time,
my eyes see nothing but

the desire to continue, the
need to be, the oppressing
ache to be beside you,
my eyes see more than

the mistakes you would
punish yourself forever for,
more than the undefined

borders of the pain we have
caused each other, more than the
dreams you thought would not unfold.

sonnet one hundred thirty three

my heart peeks from outside
your window, asking for you
to hold it a time and another,
to keep it and enfold it

in the rough edges of your
thoughts, enclose it in the
imperfect shape of your
soul and find the will to

believe that our love
gives both my heart and
your soul its sanctified,

impeccable form, no matter
the times we stumble,
we will exist with and in each other.

sonnet one hundred thirty two

sometimes we forget our
own magic, sometimes we
forget how afternoons find
its way back into the night,

or how smiles crawl into
the wings of a glorious sunrise,
sometimes we forget the
mere fact we are still standing

is reason enough to call
a moment breathtaking -
and when this happens,

forgive me for my failure,
and hold my hand so we
can find our way back to magic.

sonnet one hundred thirty one

tomorrow, harder work awaits,
knowing i cannot move my
star, but i can let my thoughts
glide across these pages

and offer up the energy
and tenacity of suns and
supernovas, heeding the arch
of the indelible light

that bear your blessed name,
held silently in the pace
of this beating heart,

living for you, finding the
crouched memories still, waiting
for your glance to touch them.

sonnet one hundred thirty

whilst your sleep lead you
to dreams where you are
free, spaces where you do
not doubt yourself,

i always wish you find
your way back to our
reality and discern that
freedom is what we afford

each other, and that
no other hand can relinquish
questions but yours,

that no other whisper or smile,
silence or conundrum, can pull
me away from your light.

sonnet one hundred twenty nine

the fold in the pavement
and the minute cracks in
our arguments cut up a hole
but we always go back

to mending and renewing
the faith that took us this
far, and i ask myself -
just how far has all this been?

and i realize that it is not
enough to succumb to relentless
and destructive shadows

but enough to want and desire
and cry for another beaten path
i will take anytime with you.

sonnet one hundred twenty eight

no history is ever forgotten,
or will ever be dismissed,
which is why i attempt to
remind you of ours

for the days you could not
allow the many fleeting
instances to seep into the
riot of your thoughts

- still i offer you the fire
of what could be both
your lover and a stranger

stealing the shadow of what has
maimed you and left you
broken, here i offer a beginning.

sonnet one hundred twenty seven

my eyes lift the pages
on our story, fumbles to
write on the next and fill
it only with the sanctified

abyss of our distance,
hungered by the mist of
our secret conversations
that lie in our dreams

long after we have spoken,
long after the trembling
caress of your voice has

resonated in my soul,
now you have made unafraid
and undaunted of any loss.

sonnet one hundred twenty six

drawn to the soliloquy of
your silence, the argument of
your stares, the heaven of
your darkness, the prison

of your furtive lips -
caught by the limbs of
your bent and naked light,
reaching for the surface,

aching to recover and
torn between madness and
healing, more than the

arid earth that you walk
upon, i invite you to break
the stones of my calm.

sonnet one hundred twenty five

when do you know once has
become more than a dream,
when one has become
more than a painful hope,

more than a reckless shadow,
more than the dark lid
that shuts the image of
all other faces and requires

that you see only her?
when do you know one has
become more than a scent

or a sound - when the breathing
particles of your humanity finds
its worth in her hands.

sonnet one hundred twenty four

your white laughter flutters
unbridled and abandoned,
carrying the trace of all the
memories your eyes have gathered

from our endless beginnings,
from our ceaseless desire,
from our wild wishes and
our uncorrupted sense of being,

the color drops and occupies
the opaque, resembling peace,
representing faith,

clutching to the fires
soaked in the rain, drenched in
your gaze once more.

sonnet one hundred twenty three

there never would be a
better time to start a poem
more than a simple thought
of you - laughing, gazing,

dancing to the light and
singing to the midnight
and even when you could not
see me you know i would

pick up a word somewhere
- to exalt your name,
ever so radiant, ever so complete

crushed by the harrowing
silence of waters and deserts
between us, still holding on.

sonnet one hundred twenty two

i reason and defy your
doubts and your perspective,
but never thought of them
selfish or disheartening

as i have allowed you
to step on such high ground,
where your shadows fall
behind and upon me,

but my heart can only
understand so much
and we have our mirrors

and differences aching to
arrest the bounds so we may
continue to hold and gaze.

sonnet one hundred twenty one

there has never been a day
that was not offered up
for you, or a night that
did not glisten because of you

there has not been an instance
i searched for words to
read that did not remind me
of you, or listened to a

rhythm that did not resemble
you, there has not been a today
or a tomorrow that was not meant

for you, nor has there been
a scent, a mark, a crossroad
that was not intended for you.

sonnet one hundred twenty

the fire starts to corrupt the
mangled view of you, and i
am at war with my thoughts
for you always have had

a certainty in you - something
never to be crushed or doubted,
never to be considered irreverent
or irrelevant, something so

imperfect yet so beautiful and
magical and full of movement,
this poet never will pause or

cease, she will live and breathe
under your skin, with her iris
screaming, trembling, reaching.

sonnet one hundred nineteen

the rubble seething with passion
for a thousand and one nights
embellished light that glow in
the midst of this lunacy

the air crazed with the scent
of you and me, remembering
the feel of your skin - a notion
never abstract but defined

and exact, the seduction ever
more forward, hunted and incensed
by a dense and dark delight

for the languor my body
is cloaked with, our crimson
days ending with a love devoured.

sonnet one hundred eighteen

a solemn, vivid dream,
a lazarus healed by your
abstract prayer - we still
call it faith and even when

narrow-eyed alleys hymn
the trance out of these
petals, yearnings take flight.
laughters soar and tears subdue

the silence that breathes
heat unto our fire, islands
hanging between heaven and

earth - inches of paper and
pens now take refuge in this
space flooded by loneliness.

sonnet one hundred seventeen

she breathes under the alarm
of what felt like sun-blazen
mornings, lifeless walls and
doors and hinges and bolts

make up for what could
be a sanctuary, the wounded
light crashed against the
mystery of this omen you

call 'alone,' searching paradigms
and dimensions belonging
to one tangent of peace -

that which you hold,
that which you put forth,
that which you devour.

sonnet one hundred sixteen

who would have thought
that something as random
as you and me will begin
to carve its particles on

surfaces, luminous and
permanent, excised by the
mouth that feed on the stranded,
ragged gift of brevity and

delight, a thief that hunts
hallowed alleys, singing to
a lute humming your

impenetrable beauty, i know
i would have thought of it,
believe it or not.

celebrating you

it feels like nothing will ever suffice.

it feels like i can go on like this forever.

that i can go on celebrating you - the woman who constantly amazes me.  the person who has kept me from straying.  the wonderful being who has sustained me for as long as i could remember.

the gift that never stops giving.

that is who you are.  that is who you will always be to me.

i have come to the humbling truth that there can possibly not be anything that would measure to the kind of gift that you are - no matter how much i try, no matter how much i flex my romantic muscles, no matter how much the poet in me attempts to give light to you - my perpetual muse.

i doubt that anything will ever be enough - to actually tell you how much of me you have nurtured.  no matter the number of days or years we have spent with each other, i know that i will always wake up to dawns filled with this huge, gaping void - a void that depicts just how much i need to prove - to make you believe and make you realize the kind of love you are worthy of and are worthy for.

however, i am also maimed by the fact that i can only do too much at once.  so allow me to take each day like a grain of salt.  allow me to excise from my heart of all the energy and desire i could each time - and assure you that when i do, i always will be offering a part of my soul - a part i do not suppose i will ever be able to give to anyone else.

all because you have become the stars in my cloudless skies.  all because you have become the dream i do not want to be taken away from.  all because you make me want to do the best that i can so i may hold our reality and case them in your hands.

so you have celebrated another great year.  a year filled with tears and laughter and love and passion.  a year filled with challenges and heartbreaks and heartmends and the faith that we are simply the kind who will stop at nothing to make things count.  and with each second that passes i am convinced that there are more and more people celebrating your presence in their lives - and i happen to be closest to that instant, to that defining moment - and i know i am blessed just because i can witness how the years have made you more resolute, and how the same years will make of you and i the best versions of ourselves.  

i guess all i wanted for you to understand is that - you have made me the luckiest.  and i love you.