Foul- sweet things

a soft satin kiss
it happened before and it happened today,
i lay on the sides of my kitchen sink
thinking the arrival and departure of my husband,
arrival of his velvet mouth that utters a chain of lantern.
he is adorable, like the moon.
he has his own mood, often.

the purgatory of life resides in this cobweb.
things ascend and descend in a ghoulish manner.
a blue-knitted shawl on the cold chest.
things around me pamper me,
this lone time also pampers me,
i walk and create art in the garden,
in am vacant – small, terrace with broken chipped walls,
something happened there maybe.
something suicidal.

a spectral wire of corrosive shade and memory.
a twitch that shakes me.
often i am speechless,
the kind of attack when your fingers
won’t fit in your mouth.
eyes shut and small.
that’s another kind of suicide.

mondays and Tuesdays are my favorites,
i watch my body decaying until Sunday comes,
and i am a piece of supine tied at the block of a tree.
so i am alive,
i cling to the nakedness of moment like a toddler to a mother.
the sky to apathetic rain,
the embalming breeze to the leaves…
something rhetoric and oblivious.

at the end of the day,
i weep, laugh, take pause, clap and sip it all.
my eye behaves in a torrential tobacco sniff.

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