Verse

Because we’re all satellites

Because we’re satellites

set free in motion by the want of life,

 

we drift,

we encounter,

we love,

we fall under.

We collide,

we cry.

We drift apart,

and fly far out

until the leagues in between 

dissolve the ugly,

and aurify the pain.

 

Gold.

Wordless.

Honest.

 

When the satellites cross again—

as if by chance,

as if new,

as if it was meant to…

 

As if.

 

Until then.

                                              

 

Image—Orbit by Kate Banazi

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Verse

In my defence

Darling, in the first days of our love

I pre-made a little heartbreak:

It sits waiting behind a lock

for the day that I get cut.

 

A little device to save myself

from ruined eyeliner and losing face.

Darling, I know you’re real good

but I must; just in case.

 

According to Freud and biology

defence mechanisms are a primitive thing,

a residual muscle memory string

in the deep of our animal beings:

 

Nature’s plan in place for calamity days,

to ensure

that there is a ready-made procedure

to stay unfazed.

 

Forgive me darling, but it’s only

standard, only routine

like health insurance or sunscreen-

a map to sanctuary.

                                 

Image by Lukasz Wierzbowski

Image by Lukasz Wierzbowski

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Verse

Whelma

It’s too much love,

while you sit calm like a night in an old city

with loyal walls and a magnificent history-

male, sweet, patient and set.

It’s too much to vest.

It’s too much to rest,

on a yard long universe

hanging by a thread,

a beating heart

and a million other almost deaths.

But, darling it’s too late

to try and forget

just how bright your stars are.

   

Picture - Satoki Nagata

Picture – Satoki Nagata

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