We must, will and do
Coexist
But only when it suits you
We must, will and do
Cooperate
A pretense for espionage
We must, will and do
Coexist
But I might prefer loathing.

I’ve accepted
The way it is.
I’ve accepted
The way you made it.
I’ve accepted
New friends.
I’ve accepted,
And I made no exception
For you.

Is it different now?
Reading this
Knowing I know
That you are looking?
Is it different now
Reading this
Knowing I know
What you are thinking?
Is it different now
Reading this?
Because I have always known
You were looking,
And I could always predict
Your thoughts.
Is it different now
For you?
Because writing it
Feels the same.

Talk to me.
Not Scott
Not Banks
Not Nikita
Not Ranjani
Talk to me
The most important person
Ever to enter your life
Talk to me
Your salvation
Your temptation
Your love
Talk to me.

I don’t think about it
I don’t talk about it
But it’s there
The unspoken fact
A fluorescent paean
Humming unobtrusively
Beneath my conversation
It’s there
But it’s manageable.

Anxiety is worthless
I always know what you really mean
I am just too easily inundated
With the polite imperative of
Implausible alternatives
To accept the subtle

Yes, the brink
If I push you
This time
You will fall off
But when was I pushy
And when did I shove?
So the brink
Yes, the brink
Looms there
Lurks there
Taunts there
Teases
Caresses
Waits for me
Waits for me to push
Waits for you to fall
The brink
Yes, the brink
Waits

Only my implied
Messages
And defiantly jostling
Elbow
Have the audacity
To ask
The question
My silence
And raised eyebrows
Why not?
Why can’t you?
I don’t want excuses.
I don’t want tension.
I want you.
Why not?

This jacket
Is more of a blanket
Than a coat
Oversized and familiar
And I’ve missed it
This jacket
Is a peace token
Genuine warmth
Overwhelming
What remained of
Frigidity.

Jacket Play Now | Play in Popup | Download

Ironic
The things I’ve written of you
In a crepe-papered journal
On the art-pressed pages
In a gel-y metallic blue
Ironic
The early violet curlicues
Just before the blank remainder
Adorning the parchment
In ever-darkening hues