Compulsion

 

I have no reason to
come to you, none.

Still, like waves rush
to the shore, for plane fun
I find myself moving towards you—
a magic pull older than logic,
a tide with its own stubborn will.

I run unto you as if
a deadline were pursuing me,
as if time itself leaned forward
and whispered your name.

You consume me
with an insane craze,
a gravity I cannot negotiate,
a fever I cannot undo.

With you I don't want to rhyme—
yet you remain my virtue,
you remain my crime.

You are the quiet death
inside me,
and still, you are my life.

Assimilation

 

With a mirror
I have two faces
I take the mirror away
the face, uneffaced
if I turn to me

in a group of ten
I count nine
unless I look back
at the missing me
the tenth one, I
cannot see

the waves are born
from water, they die
on the shore
yet
the water remains
as the tenth face

if I cannot see the truth
in the table despite the
wood being present
through and through
it’s the knowledge of
wood I cannot behold

I cannot see the sun
covered by the clouds
what I discount is the
light of the sun that
shows me what I see

even when the mind stops
the one that spots
the sound sleep is the same
face that remains uncounted,
the same light that enables
the same wood that pervades.

 

Note: Influenced by the Vedanta philosophy. It's amazing how the easiest truth can be so elusive.

Dehypnotize

 

Hypnotized world,
a mirror within a mirror.
I clean the surface—
but the face beneath
stays opaque.

Hope is a paradox—
the purity of hopelessness.

Essence deserts perception
until awareness
undoes the spell
and we
dehypnotize.