(Illustration by Laila Kay)
And so she awakened
a million and one senses that had laid dormant once from
an over surge of conventional feeling and
ingredients consisting of foods that don’t mix well:
a hot dog and donut to serve your indigestion,
a salty and sweet mix of the tumultuous.
Convention had bred me a lifetime of heartburn,
and power shortages of the heart became
as consistent as failed governments.
I could not find the vocabulary to describe
how frostbite froze my hungry desire for understanding.
I was lost and I needed that gist to
remap the way home for me to get to her.
I ended up on the highway,
closer to old solutions 11 km away,
where faded adjectives stood still,
further away than distance could number.
I came back sans answers but
rich with questions and interrogative methods
designed to soften the blow of my perplexed nerves,
inflating the frustration of her lingering gist,
gnawing away at sharp edges of experience:
a blind tendency,
the doctrine of a ticking heart
running on oil and gas,
a propaganda of the deed
rooted in anarchy,
dictated in a book of pasts
housed in prison cells
where your mind is your only enemy.
Ha! Of course, it did not work.
We were reading out of memories
instead of writing a new.
So my ticking device broke because
I followed out-dated manuals,
tried buckling screws that never fit,
scurrying pages of words from lost vocabulary,
muddled in with the sting of lime,
the bitterness of angostura and a taste of regret.
In two words as loud as a thousand,
she rewrote the dictionary for me
with her voice and sketches,
determining that my mechanics
can’t run on the same formula of
And in learning the process,
electricity surged through my crusted veins
long depleted by the cusp of malnourishment,
lost and found in the grasp of her magic.
And it is energy that powers deserted lands,
dusting off the regret of abandoned goals,
invigorating the senses to start anew,
not the kind tarnished like once or again.
Transfusing every pulsation that followed,
she bites in reverse,
leaving drops of blood behind
to paint a new story,
define a new love.