Pieces of Me

Some were left behind like the ones smeared on
backs of teachers' heavy hands in autumn.
Some where lost like the ones in red petals
of those tulips risen among the rocks,
my childhood springs in the construction sites.
And between cars beneath mulberry trees
lining the back alleys, in the presence
of us all playing ball in late July.
In Panchatantra, and Jules Verne's fancies,
in goodnight kisses every single night….
But now I stand a  porous skin only
wrapped around absence that festers and spreads
a nameless disease that tears through the past.

Darkness

This evening the dark undressed
I saw the darkness drunk
sprawling upon the lonely streets
and lined with bones that never sleep
I heard an infant gasp and scream
By windows saw the darkness crawl
knocking against the stars that groaned
I saw some falling and some broke
But then I heard the darkness retch
I heard it pray night long for death