wrinkly

So hot in your overalls, naked beneath, oh, just painting, my hormones a fever to pin you to a wall, freshly painted and all,

Instead – meekly, yeah, I’ve been alright, no, but yeah, so, I’m just gonna go.

Lingered a moment, retreated inside, your own insecurities aside, a jovial demeanour, the usual, and I guess that was goodbye.

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wrinkly

still a type of friend

there is a boy I met on my first day in Copenhagen. well, my second day, but my first morning. I’d arrived the night before; this morning was sunny, bright, I felt confident albeit jet-lagged. At the station, I was trying to figure out my way to the university for the start of my Danish course. Confused, I had no idea where to go, wandered over to the map plastered on the wall, a boy in front of it, I start: “hi, do you know …”
– “I think we’re going to the same place,” how could he have known?
– “the Danish language class, right?”
Of course. It’s only natural to assume that every lost-looking English speaker on this morning was making their way there … I guess?
We took the train together, “are you homesick yet?”
Are you kidding? I’d just landed, I hadn’t been home even 3 airports ago – where is home? “Nah,” I’m not even thinking twice about being here, right now, my body may have arrived here but my spirit is still meandering in its track.
18, I was there once before. First trip even longer ago. I’m not that old, true, but I’ve been coloured-in a bit by now, that’s for sure.
“You’ll still be my friend tomorrow, right,” I ask, as we’re split into separate classrooms.
Of course, but tomorrow fogged our minds with more novelty.
We tried to reconnect over email, first, then texts, but somehow neither of us was the type to push it. Both inclined to be the easy kind of friend, there but not, we met only by chance, on a dance floor, the middle of a weekend, a tap on my shoulder, I look around !!! envelope him in a hug, “I know we barely know each other but I love you, dude” I yell above the music, a cliché but it feels right,
– “I love you, too” he laughs,
We break apart and somehow our feet miss each other for weeks all over again, sometimes a girl wrapped around his lap, sometimes a scarf around mine, at discos and in doorways, and I almost like it better this way, friend.

still a type of friend

no body

I remember feeling
foreign in my flesh,
surroundings, neither, familiar
but the feeling, so familiar:

Silent against my words, damp, trite.
you held me, delicately
tracing my arm
on the floor
under the bright lamp,

Was it me you saw
or my parody?
You kept quiet and I realized it
never mattered anyhow.

no body

body pains

how many homes I’ve called my own.

how many homes I’ve woken up in;
stretched out comfortably,
took a bath, and made tea in,
left,
and returned to all over again.

how many homes I’ve stumbled into;
in the dark hours,
half-eyed but still,
dropped
into the right bed in.

how many homes I’ve bent my shape to;
hidden my expressions into
cracked cabinets, between
bedsheet creases,
and dusty pages of books strewn.

how many homes I’ve called my own,
felt at ease in,
doubled over in affection for;
how many homes
except my own.

body pains

cold soba tea

maybe I like the rain,
bowing the mint in your garden,
tatami under my belly
I watch records spin.

the heat clings to my skin but
when you’re gone,
the washed out mountains on your shoji
keep me cool through the night.

copper kettle on the burner
while I warm up the bath,
spend quiet mornings wrapped in hammock,
glad that from my hair I’d cut the past.

cold soba tea

tangled tracks

My love lies neglected on a naked pillow, cold where I wiped the juice from your thighs. It’s the forgotten change you try to shake from your pockets at the subway gates. You’ll walk – because you like walking, because you need a fresh air of a reminder, that all you wanted was to escape the tangle of my bedsheets before they strangled you into a feeling you wouldn’t understand. You’ll walk, because you prefer to keep things simple. You know the streets better than the ridges of my heart, and I’ll agree that they are much easier to map out.

tangled tracks