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.