She's On My Mind.

I don't think our love was like any storybook,

We worked like cold, clinically drafted plans.

She told me exactly what she needed to build foundations, as I did for her.

And we both learned to be architects along the way.

We learned to read instructions written in two different languages, the hidden meaning of gestures.

Reenforcing weakness and learning failure points.

It may not be as exciting as any great book but I know what it will look like in the end.

.... because she comes with a troubleshooting section.

The Sun doesn't concern herself,

with the other stars in the sky.

She is too busy lighting up the world.

My ice cream is always exactly 15% ice creamier after I see her.

Her science holds up.

Coffee thought.

Why aren't cookies called, Bakies? You don't cook them, you bake them.

I only will love you - to the end of your lips.

And immediately stop - right after this kiss.

Screams of the city,

after autumn rains,

fills my heart,

if only for a moment.

I crave you like carbs.

And all the salts of your body.

I've forgotten where exactly.

She says, I love you

but what she really says is,

"tell me you love me."

My silence

does not sit well with her

Like Eve of Eden

she suddenly becomes aware

of her own nakedness,

fashioning clothes out of bedsheets

pulling them towards herself

with a hint of disdain.

I don't blame her,

her reaction is justified.

I have been in her place before.

I am from Maize

and the Morning Glory

whose silent bent heads

bring memories of

obedient wives.

I am from pensive

and the introverts,

from fear and leather belts,

whose proud strikes

bruises bloom,

and the flowing crimson

tastes of copper.

I am from lands

where frail leaves

refuse to change

whose wilted and stunted

vines still remember

the mother root.

and the death of great women

whose stories remain

untold.