august + iii + vertigo

 

august

august got me hoping 

it would be september

but when the shorter nights

turned somber and cold

they cast my gaze down

and my eyes couldn’t lift from the ground

on the pavement right there

lay the fallen leaves 

along with my fractured hopes —

a still life

I specifically remember 

one night in a dimly lit bar

amidst the murmur 

of the fortunes hiding in the dark

I thought I had found you

emerging from the staff bathroom 

thoughtlessly clasping

what I thought were my fingers

but I felt no touch

it was the cold or the buzz 

that had left me numb

I’m saying I

specifically, remember you

us in almost complete loneliness

above the cold asphalt

quietly creeping from my toes

through my thighs, my belly, my throat,

all the way up to my runny, rosy nose

I thought I heard your laughter

the sweetest tickle I have yet to know—

a sound I can’t let go

I specifically remember 

a rather strange hug

down in the subway, us swallowing our pride

your arms static from the front

moving stiffly — a few pats

but I especially remember 

your hugs before those nights

caressing warm hands coming from behind

under a knit dress, no bra

iii

the wind carried no words

the heat didn't know our names

but with your hand on my back

your eyes looking into mine

who could say?

your walk made of bruised sand

stamped by the edge and smeared

untraceable from the start

but with you waiting at my door every moon

singing sweet deception

who could say?

the light put us to sleep, then in dusk

we were ready to call out for love

with feelings masked by words pitch black

but a few promises here and there

kept the moon gleaming, the sun hiding

and so the cycle was restarting

so who could say?

at last I said it, declared it, confessed it

more like asked for it

I read the lines on your hands,

traced your steps back, 

I conquered the night and faced the sun

and your words, they hurt

“you, loving me,

who would have said?”

vertigo

I fell in one summer day

the space between ruffles and skin

grew bigger and warmer, 

like thick air petting my legs

I felt the tickles rising 

from underneath my skirt

it was your voice on the microphone

it was your laughter, your ways,

that sent shivers up my neck,

making me lose my edge

and then, I fell—

out of it, for a while,

convinced myself you’d exist

only when I chose to dream

I saw you finding your ways 

as I stumbled, lost in mine

so, I fell again,

this time truly unsure

of what kept you in my thoughts

it’s quite sad, I know, 

but for the rest of the month 

you were alive, day and night

but I fell out of it, of course

oh, this time, it wasn’t swift,

I had worn myself out yearning

tightened that desire, stitched the edges, 

patched where it wanted to escape

I sewed my skin from you,

leaving marks for someone else

to touch, to dress the ruffles,

to dance with the breeze of your ways

to capture the sense of falling,

feeling myself plunge,

all over again

I’ve fallen in love

with you, multiple times

but the act of loving 

—on your ground, uneven

on your typhoon peaks

on your paths, sending shivers—

you’ve never let me