letters from june

 -

Some days I’m just jealous of those 

who can burn this world to the ground

with no consequences.

-

And while everyone else judged,

you found happiness in me.

It only took a day of warmth

and light in your eyes, 

to make mine bloom. 

-

At the end of every day

I’m a pet of my comforts - 

quiet and dark.

-

Logic terminated my dreams.

I gave them up for a career

as a service animal. 

-

We are collectors of things.

Things are collectors of their humans. 

-

My lungs are straws for humidity.

My vertebrae are pebbles. 

My ribs are wet beams

in your bedroom. 

-

Our mortality has never been clearer

then at the end of this weekend. 

-

Is this train route customizable?

I’d prefer today to be on the G

instead of the F.

-

Loneliness has been more comforting

than antibiotics so far.

-

I hoped you had coded

a love message 

into your Venmo request.

Not there. 

-

Tailored to our inebriation, 

traumas emerged with flowery pajamas. 

-

No pillow is complete without me

whispering melodies into its depth

at 3 am on Wednesday morning. 

-

We watched serious movies

and sipped dark cocktails -

pretending to be older. 

Was this the plan?

letters from may

 -

My jeans have grown in size

since I started thinking of you again.

-

Paper clips or paper cuts -

office boy’s a simple klutz.

-

Patterns on my carpet

spell out your anxiety.

I’m here, writing over them. 

-

I’ve learned to collect books. 

They’re my cheap source

of pretend memories.

-

I smoked all of them. 

Now what?

Please leave them outside my door. 

letters from april

 -

I consist of my persona

and your disappointment for it.

-

What chance of happiness do you think you have

as an immigrant..?

what chance of happiness ..

Time will catch up with you

or cancer will

or stress of your meaningless work

or loneliness 

or poverty 

or .. 

list goes on 

and fears, renting my mind,

have not crossed yours.

What chance of happiness..

of true,

carefree,

childlike,

coral, 

basic happiness ..

And your small painkillers -

cigarettes and

cups of coffee,

hug me like their seizing child. 

nights at a movie theaters,

and conversations with friends,

and reading books in subway tunnels and

salty crackers!

small painkillers of yours

are only there to numb your sadness

and keep you company..

What chance of happiness ..

You’re tired.

You’re always tired.

You don’t have the privilege of not being tired.

You are a stranger here, 

a very strange stranger. 

Trying to prove things to other strangers,

and you’ll lose,

you’ll lose days,

and health

and hair

and weight.

forget seeking home.

we’re like children,

left on the subway platform.

I’m here with you.

At the station. Waiting.

Train will be here soon.

Will we end up on it

or under it 

But there is hope.

And while there is hope,

there is effort.

And this effort caries each day into night.

And mornings are when this alien hope,

With no alien number,

renews itself

reinvents itself 

like us.

day in and day over.

Smile for me

Isn’t this life beautiful!

this eternal search..

letters from march

 -

Your eyes,

color of dark, black tea,

stared at me with the depth of a curious doe.

-

I have been taken to places

by your touch

and your eyes,

where no planes would ever fly.

-

ivory wax from my shower candle 

just drooled over my chest

and I am in awe. 

that’s your fault, M.

-

You dawn on me

with breath of hunger

like night,

sucking out definition 

from brownstones. 

-

It’s not the death,

It’s the calling. 

The great big galactic calling

for her nebulae.

-

One o’clock arrived with growling pipes

and hissing windows.

evening smelled of moss and ivy.

-

My heart bloomed like a daffodil. 

It was one of those weekends…

-

I am opening my body for you,

Hoping you’ll open your heart for me.

-

One of my favorite things 

is imagining going to school

with younger versions of friends 

whom I’ve met since graduating. 

-

My ideal day would be waking up, 

Doing a long yoga class with myself,

And mushrooms, 

Walking around Fort Greene

And watching homes

And lives spent in these homes

While sipping iced latte with lots of honey in the bottom of the glass. 

letters from february

 -

I spent all weekend in the same pair of pants

and it was the best weekend of all!

-

Leaving you felt like breaking a spell.

vampires aren’t supposed to be caged.

-

Giselle is the og Corpse Bride.

-

I never say “keep in touch”,

Just, don’t forget me.

-

მე მიყვარს გამოთქმა “right wrist” 

იმიტომ რომ ის ქართულშიც “მარჯვენა მაჯაა”.

Rit - rist / მარჯ-მაჯ

-

I started writing 

because there was no one who would listen.

-

We accept what we think is worth fighting for.

and we fight for what we think we deserve. 

-

I want to fall in love with a musician

so I’m loved by a vessel of music

as much as I love it.