just

Why do we turn the pages backward when we know there's so much tripping and stumbling over all the faces we've kissed, voices we've clung to and smiles we've smiled back at?

i am your transit

i am the one
in between times

i was here, always
when you were passing by

i forget, passing
doesn't mean stay

blog stalking

i found this amazing, amazing blog that went by a name like 'afternoon tea' and can't find it any more :(

ebb

the tide has turned again
we're walking backward

the wheel

it's time to do this again-
destroy
each other
with
each other

i'm the wonk in love

love
was meant for us
only
when we weren't present

during absences
it teaches
a little sense

during presence
it's almost
only visceral 

The Phoenix

Bangkok raises

itself

from the ashes

every time i fall

Sometimes

it's the whitewashed walls

of the hospital room

where i come back to life

At other times

it's the sky

reliving itself

on canal waters