To an absent love

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My eyes get a tingling sensation from past memories and future dreams,

My mouth with an affirmation to mute dreamy screams,

My eyes luster, as sparkles from the anvil rise, well suited for your vision,

My tongue waxes eloquently the need for a bold affection.


Yet with all you are and have to your enviable credit, 

It aches that you show very little that deserves merit,

And all your physical endowments have shown their limitations,

Failing to bring us out of our pitiful situation. 


Promises were made not worth taking back, 

And still I hold on to your belongings,

Possessing a fragrance one might never want to exude, 

Embracing a pillow each day, imagining wrapped into your well built lusty muscles

But it seems like I’m just lost in fantasies over the discomfort of your absence.


I await your return …

To fulfill the fantasies i gasp each day,

Hoping for the day we reunite in close acquaintance 

My absent love… 




You never can read in between

Dot! dot! dot!

It never reviews the missing segment,

Discrete in its nature…

It leaves one pondering over the thoughts ahead,

Life is such…




It neither sketches nor advance the plot of the morrow day,

Its purpose serves to omit, what comes ahead becomes a mystery.

Despised it is for it brings both delightful and sorrowful expectations,

Death, pain, laughter, joy, happiness, darkness…

A waste in energy it would be in seeking to interpret the invisible and voidness

Surrounding the three dots, for it only drains the harns in deep thought.

The quality it  carries requires the eligible to be prepared of  what lies ahead

For its only in Ellipsis…



santa muerte

Swallowing my life in a drench,

I saw him approach,

Cowls, hoods and strides with their wearer

tossed and fluttered into tatters.

clothing mirroring the earth, and a duffle sac suspended on his back.

A vagrant.


An odious stench arose as he sat beside me.

But I was captivated, not with manifest derogation, but intellectual curiosity.

Teeth were stained with kola nut, tobacco and varying shades of yellow and brown

And whatever else I did not know.


He pulled out a sugar cane from his sac,

Gnawed off the hard green peels.

He chewed the juicy white and red pulp, hissing and cursing

As the juice escaped his mouth  easing down his clothing,

Spitting the chewed reddish cane on the dust.


He turned and I smiled,

His face with an expression of one who’s marvelled at my living,

With a calm certainty that it would never be his.

He turned away.


A nurse passed through and he cursed,

“Not having otherwise any rag of legality to cover their shame of cruelty”.

He chuckled and spit on the ground.

His words eloquently spoken showing that something

Swallowed him to his cessation.

From tag to rag.


He turned to me again and said,

“The greatest tragedy is not death,

Death is a state of tranquillity, a penalty for the crime

Of living the way I do”.


The sun had turned red to its descent.

He waveringly stood, turned a blind eye to two roaches

Escaping his clothing, collected  his sac and went his way.

The next thing I heard was

Blood and thunder…

collateral damage

You take each chance you can,

designed enough not to consider unintended.

As boiling water combined with oil, despite the disunity,

I still embrace you with entity.

But as water fused into hot oil, you show resentfulness, with

So much acridity, your splatter with so much impact,

Piercing through those around to their attention.


I’m well aware of our situation which is beyond repair.

Like the ignored terms to Pandora’s box, it opened with disastrous consequences,

unable to be closed again. It marks the dilemma of our condition.


The unpleasant dread of displeasure haunts me each day,

And not a minute passes without a guilty conscience.

But the way you treat me shows no possible pardon despite my apologies,

I guess I deserve it…


I am no longer intact, worn out from the hardness you show me.

Useless have I become from all the detest.

I’ve tried so many ways, in my remorse, each brought with a sense of unassailable loss.

But my struggle to escape from your assailant’s gasp always goes to waste.


A great burden hurtles me…

I wished to evade, or intensify myself so that the lure of your husband would bypass me,

A mistake that cost a friendship…

That loss leaves me in grief and left an unamendable damage to my heart.


If I would go back in time to make right my wrongs, I would.

But time is out of our joint. And I wish no greater than a new

Beginning and onset of things, maybe it would overturn

The collateral damage…