Damascus morning coffee poetry.


Sobering thoughts. Best of luck finding me when I am gone. Maybe you won’t notice.

First draft poems for people who don’t listen.


Damascus, 20/09/2010

I will now lock my heart away, or whichever muscular part of me

constricts at the sight of your face,

pumping nerves throughout a body aching to root itself in your length,

entangling all your width in my folds,

letting you sleep as I wordlessly chant prayers to safeguard us.

I will now be silent, I will

write poems to you only in my stomach, and speak of desire behind

my eyes, opaque to you.

I will smile with only the front of my expression,

and leave all depths stowed out of the reach of your hands, undemanding.

I will wrap my lungs in bubble plastic, keep them

breathing out personal ash from flames you will only now vaguely remember.

I will wrestle you out of my center,

throb want only in places transient and too quick to dry,

slowly ebbing heat away to lukewarm union,

a door creaks shut softly,

you too loud to hear it between us.

I will take the best of myself and bury it underwater, let you float on the salt

water surface of my love,

until I am of earth and plant matter, sunlit through skies too blue to

haunt you, blind.

Until I am so far away, the kisses you stamp on me crack nothing

but a shell of what could have been,

until the words you may have said are lost in winds of a

distance, my

body sinking into itself, a cage constructed of your disinterest,

till I am a ghost. Till you are alone,

wondering what cold air gusted around you, a space devoid

of my breath, a coffin in the corner to plague,

the mourned demise of my laughter as I



the entrances to our ever after.

I will lock down my heart,

precious trove,

hidden key,

till one day, sought eternally, from the center of earth

from my inner fracture,

I am released from the deep, from the down under,

by a traveler,



eyes wide open to my rapture.


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