Unfeeling Chills

Small slits do not drain
poison from alien limbs,
unfeeling chills numb.


Mismatched Socks

My mismatched socks personify the
endless anxiety of a
preoccupied mind
now made conscious of the
dissimilarities adorning my feet.
Severely diminishing the
possible scenarios that had
exhausted my thoughts
about our first meeting.


That wave, undertow envelops,
and through pushing pulls me beneath.
I gasp, choking on salty nothings
fighting fictitious waves to no avail,
for on your tongue an unsaid narrative hangs.
Dying, wrapped at the throat while
trying to sink me, deeper yet
and I succumb, alone, to unrelenting you as
I find myself stuck somewhere
between crossroads.


Uneven days
close curtains
on our
fabricated thoughts
held together
by strands
of unseen
violet dreams
reflecting themselves
off others
until finally
molded by
life’s kiln
with craftsmanship
achieved through
an artisan’s
uneven touch.