Posted on by Ruisi

Contamination of Touch

Each instance I attempt to organize revisited is one frame
Nostalgic it could be said, reminiscence at blame
No detail have I left to find in this photograph of mine
The same names carved into the wall behind us
The same depth of breath, the same blemishes on our skin
I wonder, then, why those dimples look so unfamiliar
     when days ago I could claim to have been their founder
Perchance it be I’ve no longer your face in perfect recall
but that countenance is not one I should forget; forgive me
     let me recapture that visage through glossy remembrances
much have I traced our smiles with my fingertips that the ink 
     has erased in the swirls of my hands —ah, I fear
from features too polished have come crude wax models
your eyes, do they grow crueler by my touch? I knew them cold; 
I recognize well that look, from first acquaintance
in later meetings was I greeted with a smile, but I wonder
     had those ever reached your eyes?—they grow not crueler
in optimism did I fail to recognize the scorn in your laugh
Foolish, did I think those expressions happy before?
I must’ve remembered wrong, those sneers you wore.
Posted on by Ruisi

Follow the Wisps

Follow the wisps of blue
to reach the disfigured veranda of stone
where phantom abstract slips from high
when the horned and the barred claim their distress
flames cast shadows cross skin of water
yet the light from the bright moonrise still dies.
Says the sun to the wind and the wind to the moon
“who is more powerful?”
No northern zephyr dares betray and forfeit.
Greet the night from beyond her gate
for ghostly protest hath no dictate.
Posted on by Ruisi

You, Most Delightful Parasite

You, most delightful parasite, flaunt proudly your perfume
     as the forged red thread woven absent consent
Thieve my creations self-molded through your roots
     still my orchid latches to me and I to you; owe,
     the pale lilac of your petals remain my only other tone
I’ll be warm adorned until you can survive on your own.