runwayconvos

the endless rows of man-made lights did not blind us from this darkness.

so dark the stars and satellites burst through, like little sparks of flames that hung ominously out of reach

staring back at me from the abyss, or are we the abyss?

people huddled down with names written on the skin of the living on the other side of the globe;

the quiet demeanour, actions louder than words.

the drive for betterment, the slow pace of walk.

brandishing knives at challenges, gentleness towards everything else.

generosity, quite like the stars that peppered the sky here today, everywhere else.

a careful touch of hand, earthly, mythological. Cross boarders, over the ocean, cold burning into my bones as it did with my skins and heart.

too garish

laughing so hard that our sides hurt,

but really, everything else does too.

talking about how our plates are full,

and yet there's a gaping cavity inside.

where is the map to navigate life,

when this is a concrete jungle and things bite?

too little

City of Freedom

City of Light

City of Love

We brand our cities like our possessions, some carry it in their hearts, some on their hands.

Some hold on to it because they have no choice, some ever changing and still it never fit.

But love, what do we know? These cities made their riches selling lies.

We are every passerby, every pauper, every romantic, every rogue.

We’ll buy your deceptions, your secrets, and your misery too.

Bottle them every night in moonshine, and leave it brimming with tears and austerity.

Bright Nights

Bright Lights

it was summer, a fine day after the winter wind. we traced the path of your youth, the picturesque landscape surrounding the quietness of your voice. i remember drawing slow deep breaths, trying to commit your scent to my memory. the water was calm, our skin soft against the grass, lips cold from the icy drink, yet, your kisses scorched my tongue.

everything since was because of you.

The vacuum from loss.