i

margarette, everything reminds me of you. the stereo in my car the windows rolled down the horizons lit up where your eyes would be the fairest. i remember familiarizing your kisses: your tongue dominates mine; your soft lips travel from mine to my cheeks down to my neck. i remember composing this: with every word …

Advertisements

xiii

will i take you back maybe when you’re on the ground crying begging kneeling to the stars to spark one more time maybe when you’re on the bed crying begging howling to the moon so the sun can rise up sooner maybe when i sing i have to go maybe when you beg the way …

xii

i need to hear your voice; there is no sound in space ©2017, Quiyet Brul  

xi

my hollow chest sings to the empty spaces you hurt me still, i am a beating heart that thinks you’re a work of art ©2017, Quiyet Brul

x

i sing a song filling all the spaces in between of nothing and everything with fireflies and fire and ice no space, nothing in between ©2017, Quiyet Brul

ix

my mouth, a black hole where nothing escapes and my eyes, a white hole where everything escapes because you took the ability of escaping and not escaping and existing while not existing every contradiction becomes one you escaped; i couldn't ©2017, Quiyet Brul

viii

i am nothing but a beating heart my head, decapitated i am unconscious: unalive but also undead feeling both at once when did breathing become a difficult chore? (since i lost my head my lips have forgotten to kiss the way you liked it) ©2017, Quiyet Brul