A puff and a light

Half-cup of sanity

shivers with intense joy

and pain and hope, I 

caress in deviance. 

A puff and a light

do the trick,

but I am still cold 

and muddy and naked.

And while half of the city 

sleeps, my cute roomie's 

down with it. They're traveling

a million light years-

dreaming and soaring, while 

I tell myself to be 

still and watch and kiss them

 

instead. But I'd rather gaze upon 

the lonely skies; stare blank at 

this luminous star--of white light 

passing through the thinning 

air. How on earth can I ever 

reach it? 

Shall I just continue 

gazing?

My pillows nod; my clothes,

sticky with sweat and fears

and tears, let out a cry the heavens

could hear but was 

voiceless and soundless in

hundred decibels.

Thoughts of her peeked in. 

And him. She of long

braided hair standing and 

weeping at the rear corner 

of my misty, tired eyes. He who

whips her with a strange

black pole. They, of passion 

and lust who always believed that

love is a panacea.

I could stance no more:

the lonely night he bade 

goodbye, the stench in my 

head, the blood in 

my white linen.

Shall I take a small step 

forward or a giant 

leap backward?

Then again, she flashed back,

and the forty winks she slid 

her tongue in my waiting

lips. How could I forget the 

fire burning inside her? 

T'was the same fire I used

to play, same fire that

lit my crappy, cold cell.

She was harassed; I was 

forgiving. She thinks about him;

She. He. They were on my 

mind, licking every inch of

my shattered bone; sucking dry

each trace of blood in my vein.

Whoever thinks about me

at that precious while breeds 

insanity, just like the city

and half of it dreaming for the 

night not to end. 

A twitch in my brain, a fuck in 

my nerve, and a cut in

my toe---were all I could lift 

in a tormented fleet. For 

a moment, I was once again

broken:

So I could yell at her

and him and them, stop it or I 

shall wake up and break

them all up and juts 

puff one more stick.

Tingling. Tickling was every

sensation as I smash her

left breast: skin-to-skin,

bare as bare. For we share 

along with the sleeping 

city, my fondness of her

flesh and my itching neck

and my still, glorious 

thoughts of him.

While we were together,

sliding down the roof

towards the stained-wall

bathroom and out to

the small bloody gate of

my skimpy undershirt.