ether
a dream
a memory
from a life lived
or livingmaybe mine
maybe someone
else’ssleepy
sun, still
waking, weaving
between blades
of thick Iowa grass
yellowing and resoluteworshipping
their golden
god.eternal beds
canopied with iron gatesglorious even in
decaying.
oh, the way they lie
through glass lenses
for dollar signs
it isn’t true love
unless you apologize
show me something real
where the love hurts like i do
i don’t want fake tears
i want passion that burns
lovers to the ground
and dwindles down
and they emerge like phoenixes
from the dust.
not a single star in the sky
but a thousand in your eyes
reflecting off these city lights
i say i’ll be back soon
knowing full well
soon may not be soon
enough
no matter if it’s now
or in your final momentsit is going to break
my heart, i know
i am denying the inevitable
whether or not this is the last time,
i must learn to say goodbye
am i going to be like
my favorite song in tenth grade:
the one i memorized all the words to
& listened to 347 times
which subsequently lost all its meaning?
or the quotes & photos i hang up
on my bedroom wall with the
intent to inspire:
the ones that i wake up to everyday
& seize to notice anymore?
will you see my face & hear my laugh
& look into my eyes one
too many times: will i
begin to become
ordinary, too?
there are some souls
who see and feel beyond
their own existence;
interwoven with the earth herself
gifted a sixth sense for the
silent suffering
a heart heavy with the knowledge;
a heart wanting to love
us all the more
we were born from the same spirit,
i think
your words
moved within me like my own
we loved beyond borders
or boundaries
or fear
hearts bloody wide open to each other
to us all
to it all
we shared a connection we did not
always have the words for
i was the parts of your life you
did not live, and
you were mine
your silences often heavy
i knew
we shared the same light
because we had the same darkness in us, too
sometimes my heart takes me
to the walled courtyards of the Old City
to the streets where my նենե (grandmother)
laughed and played
and carved her initials into stonesometimes it calls me to
sandstone cities
and undulating deserts
where my ancestors fled and
where the mosque’s
haunting prayers stir
my sleeping soulsometimes i hear
the melancholy songs of
my mother tongue
and i long to stand on the հող (dirt)
half of my being was formed from,
to dig my toes into my
rootssometimes i’m drawn towards
places i do not know, but
that i hear calling mebut louder than the voices
echoing in ancient monasteries
and stronger than the force of
my meandering spirit
is the pull to youyou are where I ache to go back to
to become one
with something else–
the wind, the sailsanother person
to simultaneously lose
& expandoneself
to be so lost &
so found
each place your heart & feet
have tread
time has eroded you
from my mind(like waves erode a sandy shore)
depositingyou into the delft
waters of the subconscious
where you sinkdeeper every time
i fall in love with him
a little more.
there is so much within me
things i don’t understand
that overwhelm melike standing in one of those lottery games
where the dollar bills fly all around you
& you have to try & catch themmy emotions
& physical sensations
fly every which way within me
and all i can do is watch them swim around my head
dizzying
nameless& i don’t understand how to name them
i don’t even understand how to feel them
how to hold them
how to make them feel whole &
heard & known so they can
stop haunting methere is so much within me
i don’t know how to feel.
Silenticel 