she shows me how her eyes hold water
and tells me he is an ocean.

i ask her why she doesn’t sail away.

she sighs.
rubs salt between her thighs.
takes off her eyes and rests them by the window sill.

maybe the weather will change, she tells me.

the wind blows and blows
there is a salt hurricane in her little room.

somewhere, her cat cries and pees into the bundle of horoscopes
by the door.

i tell her people don’t change.
i tell her rubbing salt on herself won’t make him love you.
i tell her she is not a lighthouse and he is not a lost ship.

she gathers her cat, she opens her legs and says he will come.

leave, she says.
get out.



i want to protect you
from every sadness in this world; this union
between us yearns to bring back the carefree in your laugh,
longs to bring light into the crevices of your soul

this is a longing that spans skies and horizons,
in this distance that is less than a distance, let me be there
your happiness has become my happiness, your sadness suddenly mine.

this is a love more than love,
in this depth there are no words, only a familiar happiness
with you, with only you. take my hand,
know i’ll never hurt you, this heart could never hurt any of you.

there are roads and bridges and dreams
that lead nowhere, and there is you- you have become
the road, the map, the destination.

i miss you.

if the universe wants me to forget about you
it’s one of the hardest things i’d had to do
i wake up and the dreams i have of you cling to me
like cobwebs; there is a pang in my heart. everything
in me feels more dead in your sudden absence.
it’s foreign, it’s different, i miss you, i miss

i feel less, i feel as if my other half is somewhere
leading some other life, and there was you and me, and now
this sudden change has left me here, wondering how i’m
going to get through this rest without you. please tell me
how you could throw away something so easy and magical
so easily, just like that.

i’m trying to forget about you, i’ve let you go
but i cannot help turning back for something more,
a sign, a word from you, something to let me know
this couldn’t be the goodbye to a perfect friendship.