Whispers To The Oblivion ...

I Sunsets on your bed have never been the same before. I have never seen such beautiful hues of sunset. How surreal it seems when I realize that it is, in fact, the sheen of my eyes that reflects the remnants of the sunlight: the blues, the yellows, the orange, the red, and the lavender. From the windows of your top-floor apartment, everything looks immobile. The silence feels so peaceful, so calm that it's almost unbelievable that only a year ago, ruthless storms have ravaged me. II The tints of the sky reflect through the glass windows of every building in this corner of the town; each of which has a story to tell. The barren trees hold up their limbs onto the sky, tall and proud. Even in their disheveled state, they do not ask for a savior. They are worthy and whole on their own. Fall has ended in a jiffy and harsh winters are en route. Yet, lifeless trees are not afraid to embrace the darkness, for they live in the hope of a certainty: that certainty being spring. I wish the Sh...

I And then this morning came, unheralded. I woke up in your arms and knew instantly that that was where I always belonged. I woke up at twilight and chose to capture this autumn morning in my senses, in my writing, because memory often fails me. But my words are defeated in the battlefield of emotions. I sit at your cluttered desk, with an equally cluttered mind and all I hear is you snoring away safely in the blanket that has witnessed our union, only last night. Is that the safety of your home, or have I become your home? II Emotions run through my veins like wild river currents at this conjecture of night and day and all I feel is your smile widening on my neck, one notch more with every breath. All I see are the barren trees out of the window sill. Smoke billows out in insinuating trajectories and becomes one with oblivion, subzero hit already. Winter reincarnates in Iowa City, but why did it bring so much happiness in my 'skies'? III Spring brought you into my life and aut...