birthday

Your love for me
Is as natural
As the parabola of the wires
Between electric poles.

I have found
True love.
You are more happy
Of me in this world
Than me.

Torrential Rain

Today,
We ate in silence.
We walked in silence.
We watched Cinderella in silence.
I read and she translated,
in silence.

We were not fighting.
We did not have a fight.
We were not about to have a fight.

This silence was not growing
But comforting.
We went on in silence
Each confident in the We.

The longest summer

We, you and I,
adjust to telephones.
Speaking, listening,
Sighing, longing.

Not that
They were ever complete;
Making the wait
Interminable.

Your writing
speaks to me.
I can hear your voice,
the certitude of your tone.

Each day ,
I make plans.
New ones,
Combining, conceiving.

I think
What will I do
When I meet you
After all these days
Rushing, running,
In a frenzy,
Thinking everything,
Fearful
Of forgetting plans
Or
Numbed into completeness;

One evening, in the whiteness of my dining space

Somewhere, I stopped looking outside the window
I bought a television.

I forgot the smell of fresh air,
the shrillness of unedited sounds.

My story
became my photo gallery.

Shifting homes,
I found my stable equilibrium.

Electricity cut

Darkness
engulfs the house.
The phone has died
for the dying light of the torch.

The insane world of algorithms
have collapsed
like a heap of
unreceived messages.

You and I
are finally alone,
unplugged,
offline.

Its been long
since I played
Pink Floyd.

Our conversations
sans faces
in the darkness
are like on the telephone.

Electricity should go more often,
albeit in winters,
And, you are right,
inverters are useless.