sonnet two hundred twenty

when we obscure the
subtleties and expose
the masked, tangible
coordinates, places that

lead us to who we
are and what we can
make of this, to the
nest of reveries that

hang in the midst
of our sleep and our
wake, to fists of

arguments that wrestle
with the shadow of
our own lonesome song.

sonnet two hundred nineteen

you lie where the threads
begin to unravel the
destiny we thought we
were making, and we

turn to a corner that
holds all beliefs and
disbeliefs, the alleys
that embrace faith

in the existence of things
that cannot be seen
nor touched -

and we understand
that such is enough to
keep desiring.

sonnet two hundred eighteen

i sing to the glazed, red
hues of the clouds soaked
by the sun, and see
the impatient wind

hum and hover above
the truest of truths -
daunted by the alpha
aspiring punctuations

married to the epic
that is our onset
and our end -

and the ceaseless
understanding and
fear that lies in between.

sonnet two hundred seventeen

the savage landscapes
mourning the hours we
stay awake, the moments we
spend apart, clinging

to perpetual resonances
- of names hailed and
spoken in the dark, of
the blackness drowning

the still, impenetrable us,
we arch our embrace so
it may take the shape

of who we dream of
becoming, so it may take
the form of light.

sonnet two hundred sixteen

as the dust collected on
blistered shadows and angled
dreams, the dimensions
shifted to suddenly simply

telling this story of you
and me on a road that
fumbles and twists with
each day we forego the

pain and forgive the
inconsistencies, with each
moment we gauge

the silence of hunted
smiles and of unending
poems and desires.

sonnet two hundred fifteen

with bated breath we
confine ourselves in
circles of the fiercest
need we both have

ever felt, we both
have ever known, without
the necessity to measure
misery or distance,

without the nagging
red stranger that is
loneliness, without any

other thought but
our reality, this, us, now,
and the next vacant hours.

sonnet two hundred fourteen

tiptoeing around the noon
of your sleep, or the naked,
yawning dawn that carried
the divine shadow of your

body in languor, time
in a day marked by the
painful hours apart, alone
i would imagine the phases

your breathing instill
upon walls and ceilings
of a heaving, perpetual

need, to discern your
thoughts, bubbles within
your mind as you lay.

sonnet two hundred thirteen

we hide our unguarded
desires under a coal mine,
just like an amaranth,
all a dream until it

aches and blisters and
could no longer stop itself
from manifesting, like
heedless blossoms staring

skyward, tracing the steps
until it touches the
vague blue clouds,

until all it knows is that
it must follow - the sound,
the sight, the feel of your voice.

sonnet two hundred twelve

haunted by the scent of ash,
we have been standing in
the middle of a fire,
ever so consumed by this

desire, where, even in the
gorge of our souls are elevated
by the ceaseless red and
orange flames, running

towards the creation
of random clouds of
thoughts that bear only

what we long have held
for one another, what
we make of who we are.

sonnet two hundred eleven

we aid ourselves with formulas
and we make our own,
silence and depth makes up
for what we share in minutes

taken away by arguments,
like blades or scalpels used
to write across our skin,
drawing the red unforgiving

blood of things that once
held our desires and the rain
of fire that go with it,

now everything has been
washed down, soaked, submerged,
waiting for a little rescuing.

not today

they say it is always darkest before dawn. and the darkness breeds fear and despair and helplessness. but not today. not this very moment.

all there is to this universe today is you. all there is for me this very second is you. and if the world will come to an end i am certain i'd have known love, i am certain i 'd have known faith.

things have never been easy, and perhaps they never will be easy. but i would take that over nothingness. i would take difficulties and failures and shortcomings over a life without you. i can no longer imagine a day without you. i have ceased allowing myself to understand how there could be this world if you did not at all exist. i know we have this immense distance between us and we sometimes fail to see things as they should be seen. but...i still catch myself in awe of what we have so far done to keep everything that we have together. to keep each other.

that realization fuels this invisible fire inside of me - it helps me comprehend why some things work, and why some do not. i would like to believe that we have come this far not only because our intentions are good and that our hearts are in the right place but because we know we ought to be here - right in this spot, right in this time, right here with each other. we have taken the long road together and frankly, i am unsure when this road will ever end, but you have made the journey worthwhile and if i will be asked if i will choose to do this in a different lifetime, the answer would be 'of course.'

as long as it is with you. as long as it is because of you.

the most powerful things i have experienced in life weren't the moments everything seemed perfect, they were when things were in the brink of destruction and we were catching our breaths trying to patch things up. they are when we were fighting too hard and tears have clouded my vision yet all i could think of is saving us. they are when others tell me that what we are doing seems impossible and i feel the gaping hole inside me, yet for some wicked reason i would feel that you will always be there to fill it and make sense of me.

i have never really thought hard of why we meet people at certain times in our lives - i guess i always have fate to attribute that to. but now i am beginning to think that things happen the way they do because of all the choices we have made from the time we could affect our own destinies. we are here because we chose to be here. we are here because our decisions led us to this time and place. we are here because we are bound to teach each other something. and just look at how much we have done to stay with each other and make our decisions be about each other and for each other.

so no matter how dark the night gets, no matter how helpless we seem to be because of things we cannot understand, please know that i am making a conscious choice to be here because i have realized there is more to life when i share it with you, because i know that there is nothing we cannot resolve together, because i know that i have found my meaning in this world.

i am here because of you and though things have been inconsistently painful and inconsistently blissful, you can expect to find me where you left me, or at least expect to find me where i want to be found - beside you, staring at you, aching to hold your hand, my thoughts spiraling because after all these years i am still crazy about you - you have managed to elicit that kind of reaction from me - it is inexplicable and could be a little exhausting but hey, if it means being allowed to keep you then who cares about having to always explain things and getting tired.

like all the days we confront together, this is just the beginning. and i am glad i have found someone who is willing to always begin with me. someone who takes interest in seeing old things and old ways with a new perspective, someone who, i know, years and years from today, would see the sunrise with me in our sunset days.

happy anniversary, mahal.

three hundred sixty five

it has been exactly three hundred sixty five days today - since the last time, i and you.

it has been that long and i am still haunted by the memory of having to trace your shadow until it was swallowed by the darkness...that is, the airport. :)

but seriously...

it has been three hundred sixty five days and i remember how i struggled to comprehend how things will be, once you leave. i remember how my heart wanted to simply let things be because i know i can never offer you what you will gain from this experience. i also remember telling myself that if i will wait, that if i will allow you to leave, if i will risk all that i have come to love so she may find a piece of her life, then i would have to trust you, and the reality that nothing happens by chance, and that there is a reason for everything.

your journey has become my journey. when i started writing, all i could envision were roads and avenues and bridges and pavements - everything that is a metaphor to where you are going, where i am going to sit and wait and where you will find me.

a year later, i am still here. and i am still craving for you, i am still crazy about you. a year later, what i hold is still seething, it's still burning, all because of you. believe it or not.

i am in awe of how we have sustained each other, of how we dealt with the changes and how, after all the seemingly innumerable and insignificant seconds, i know we can tell each other that 'we' still matter.

and we do - we always have and we always will. no matter how scarring an argument becomes, no matter how frightening the distance is, no matter how long we both have to wait - we will get there, you and i. we will be together, we will be with each other, we will share that lifetime.

everything about this journey has been bittersweet. we have failed and stumbled and sometimes, have succumbed to our own incapacity to see what the other person sees but i am proud we have taken it this far, that we have chosen to take it this far. and i know even when things are hopeless (mostly because i resort to crying when i can no longer explain myself), we will never give up. i know because i can feel it. i know because i would wring my heart of all feelings if i have to just to show you and let you know how much i love you.

for now, i will offer you my words, my thoughts, my conviction - all the things that you have fueled and have given meaning to. for now, i will offer you three hundred sixty five sonnets - all created with the notion of you coming back, with the faith that you will, as you have promised.

every day, we will start. every day, we will attempt. every day, we will live so we never have to doubt if our sacrifices ever counted for anything, so we will never have to second guess whether all our tears were worth it. now that an entire year has passed and i no longer dread the hours or days or months i have to wait for you - i know we will always meet in the middle. or at least we'd always try to compromise and show each other our perspectives. this whole thing has given me a different view of you and of us, and i have to say i am grateful, that even when we are away from each other, you never cease to teach me something new.

i love you, as i always have. i love you, like it is the last thing i ever want to feel. i love you and i will be waiting.

sonnet two hundred ten

the weeping lyre of your
heady desire, taking the
space where raw and pure
thoughts once were,

the roof angered by the
rain as you interpret
your own dreams, as you
guard your own notions

as you sleep, white becomes
this pale, almost unrecognizable
arid wall where your fireworks

hang waiting to be ignited,
giving birth to unimagined
colors and noise and light.

sonnet two hundred nine

silence is not all about
listening, perhaps it is about
predicting a thought or
tasting a moment

such as now, when i
would sheepishly count
the number of times your
breasts heaved to the

rhythm of your heartbeat,
painting the meaning
of sleep and of restlessness,

i find my eyes tracing
the glory of your brows,
your aquiline nose, your cheeks.

sonnet two hundred eight

the night armless, like this
lonely chair in the corridor,
basked by pondered light
from fireflies, reminiscent

of my childhood, when
i did not know the needs
from wants, when i did
not stop to listen to the

name spoken by the scent
of a rose, when my youth
consisted of a word or two -

always a dream, of finding
one, of leaning and loving
and beginning in the end.

sonnet two hundred seven

still, the back of my hand,
a blank, seething space that
ache to be filled by exclamations
of you and this, of here

and now, summoning the
black ink like it appears
inside my head, taking the
place of lines and of contours,

humbling the heights and
defining what didn't have
shape or form, idled by

mornings awakened by the
siren, a clarion call, a need
to scream your name.

sonnet two hundred six

thoughts burn the halted, fleeting
escape of this book, aching
to be filled by you, yearning
to be taught the language

of languor and stares
to make you remember how
each day is sanctified,
how each step is offered

so we may begin, so we
may continue, so we may
defeat the loneliness

spilled by treacherous nights,
so we may endure hours
that seem empty and endless.

sonnet two hundred five

let me wring your loneliness
and devour the sand it
grows from, allow me to
take this one time and

hold you close, so close you
will feel the weight
of your love on me and
tell you, my beloved -

that though pain and
absence may plague the
days and nights ahead,

i shall think of only you
when i begin unfolding the
notion of happiness and of life.

sonnet two hundred four

staring at what could be
our life streaming before
our eyes, particles sifted
mercilessly though

mysteries hidden and
borne out of the light
and wind of your soul,
cascading, swirling, swimming

the opportune moments such
as this, through chances that
unraveled and which our

hands took, though a love
that is nameless but
spirals thriving, giving.

sonnet two hundred three

what if one day we will
be asked - have you been to
the only place worth living
in? what would we tell

ourselves? i would exhale
and take in all the wonders
i have seen, carefully mapping
tracks and coordinates,

moving in painful circles
to find you and end up
with you each and every

time, and hold your gaze
up to mine - you are the only
place worth going back to.