Noodles

And just like that,

One message

And we are done

I respond

And leave my phone on my bed

Walk to the kitchen to

Make dinner

Do you need my help?

My mother asks

Yes,

I want to tell her.

Not with the food

But this grief I must now endure

Grief over the loss of

Something

She didn't even know was

Mine

But the noodles are cooked and

Ready to be taken

Off the heat

The eggs need to be boiled

The shrimp sauteed

All so manageable

Compared to the task

You've left me with

oceans

There are oceans between us

The waves swallowing your words

I lose you to the sand

The water, the salt

Even the wind takes you from me

It stings,

When the waves hit my skin

But they can’t take me with them

To you

They can’t fill my lungs

So I don’t have to breathe

Grief

Where do we store our grief

For safekeeping

When our pockets are full

Already

And our hearts and lungs

And kidneys

Are about to burst

Where does our grief go

When it's been one loss

After another

And what we carry in our hands and mouths

And on our shoulders

Are slowly slipping from our

Grip

rain

My hair is wet

Like I've just showered

But it's just sweat

The sun vengeful today

The rainbirds sing

And I hope for rain

Their cries as they fly past

A false promise, I learn soon

I wait for rain

Like the parched earth during drought

I wait for you

Like a kingfisher watches its prey

Typos

One fine day

two keys on my laptop

the troublesome @

and the much used "

decided to switch places

After a few days

and a lot of cursing

my left middle finger

reached for the 2/@ key

to open and close quotes

and my right pinkie

reached for the '/" key

when typing an email address

And now

the troublesome @

and the much used "

have gone back to their

designated places

allowing me to type

exactly what's stamped on the

tiny grey keys

All of yesterday and the day before

I opened and closed quotes with an @

and typed quotation marks in

my emails

Today

everything is back to normal

I don't have to think twice before reaching for a

key

I don't find myself muttering expletives

or having to retype anything

How easily things change

and then go back to the way they were

our brains rewiring and adapting

over and over again

Hands touching hands

You make me want

I want to feel you next to me

Your skin against mine

Legs intertwined

No space between us

You make me want

In your giving and my wanting

There is an urgency, a hunger

It leaves us breathless

Eyes closed, chests beating, hands wandering

You make me want

Not more

Not less

This exact amount of

Needing and not needing

Scratches

Minor pleasures we gain from

Minor inflictions

Not deep purple bruises

Or gushing wounds

Mere scratches

That you mayn't even notice

Until the lime you cut

For a sambol

Stings

Minor inflictions, we tell ourselves

Don't matter

Won't leave a scar

Guilty pleasures, these are

We wouldn't even admit

But it's true, isn't

Guilty of it, I am

Just as you are

Look at us,

Hurting each other

For some fleeting pleasure

Termites

You'll find yourself

One day being thankful

Or even pleased of

The life carved for yourself 

Out of wood left for the

Termites

It's all good,

You'll be telling

Yourself 

It's all good.