For a moment lost in translation,
the heart becomes desolate
and meaningless words struggle 
to make an impression.

The words that fall into empty spaces
between you and I
are as empty as my courage 
and your suitcases.

But they crawl back into my mouth
letter by letter,
covered in filth, 
and looking uncouth.

And as they linger in contemplation,
I am afraid
if they will ever reach 
their desired destination.

But I know it in my heart
and hope you will understand too
that the journey is more important 
than the end or the start.

So they wash the stain
and embark again
on the greatest journey 
we have ever taken.


we were lovers
lost in the maze of crumpled bedsheets, new wine, and old books;
discovering each other’s body
like two mice in an infinite maze.
I remember we ran
as if the wind was at our heels;
dodging the corpses scattered on the streets
like addicts after a rave party.
we laughed
like teenagers tripping on acid;
up we went like two balloons
until our heads poked the clouds.
we cried, or one of us did,
as if the world had abandoned us.
And all that was left 
was a murdering silence.
the world collapsed
on our feeble chests;
we quietly died 
underneath the weight of duty.
we were children;
we played little games and acted big;
unaware of our innocence
until they got tainted and maimed.
we were dreamers;
on ordinary skies we built ornate palaces
and in empty pockets 
we filled simple memories.

when we were lovers
life felt like life and nothing else.