a plucked tongue, uprooted and transplanted in
foreign lands before the seed was sown –
smatters between two languages, searching
for the right words to string into verses but
language is limited, and you are not.
i carried your sun in my heart, hemorrhaging
eternal sunshine from my intercoastal spaces.
you doused your sunsets and sunrises with
shades of black – warning others of a stark
world, but you and i know the intimate truth.
you’ve tired of complete strangers swaying the
moon closer and throwing your tides in disarray.
an overflowing stream; the jasmines you carry
are brimming with dreams. i whisper-sing the songs
of a lark, attempting to rouse the dreams
unabated. your moon rolls across your ocean
in response, a pearl that slipped from oysters.
where breath collides with life,
where stillness becomes poetry,
you will be found.
and i'll bite into a lemon
souring me back to my world.