Valentine Eve

Are we together
is the first thought that assails me every morning
I dare not speculate
in a dream last night you were breathing next to me
so near, it seemed I might slip into your arms
a togetherness which carries the doom of parting
I love you and feel invisible
your indifference in my soul
wind keeps blowing heavy perfume of tears
sorrowful howlings, sex and disgust
your mouth set in cobwebs
there might be subtle joys in hating
the one you loved

In quarantine

it isn’t so much about
why I never see you
or hear from you
that I piece together
truncated meetings,
disconnected texts
to create a long future
of seamless togetherness
it’s my naïve adoration of
your masculine remoteness
bewitching, snaring
hypnotising, implicit belief
of one soul in two bodies
roaming in an un-lived house
the roof is all soft,
I am all alone, pining
I let my tongue run on
the fuchsia walls, carnations
in window-sills, delightful
to every sense, strawberry lips
bleeding profusely-
its celestial home, if not home
full of roses, I pick
a long thorny stem
the sky in the west is broken
by the faint light, I scribble
‘I love you,’
on red-hued clouds, whispering
‘come home.’


I play with images
you set floating in my mind,
every illusion casting
an identical shadow as we race
surrendering to the delirium
of which you remain in control
knowing it’d be over soon,
that the ground would become
frozen again.

I don’t even know what I say
at such moments,
you are growing silent every day
it’s always night where I am,
“I love you,” you say
if something has to be said,
what makes more sense?
we tell each other
we are lovers, in love
while my conviction
that we are on divergent paths
is revived from one conversation
to the next.

I wonder at the letters
I begin to write,
left unfinished
phone calls I break off
dialling before the last digit,
if this isn’t me on the brink
after a brief intermission
as though nothing has changed
and if I am not back
where I began?

“take this yearning seriously
you want me,” you say
and I rush to see you
in solitude I ask myself
if love is really in question
if it isn’t vulnerability
and embitterness
the neediness to which,
I am attracted?