sweet chocolate wind
look what you scatter about my feet
warm butter imprints,
resting…
and little moths kissing
stickers for children
for scratching and sniffing
feeling whimsical for a day
or a month,
or a year…
hands on my face
softer now
than the white oven baked
listening closely
for the humming and hissing
red hot radiator swishes
on the highway
in the evening
you move me with your green eyes burning
the next morning
after you’ve gone
your imprint still pressed on my pillow
like nectar on fallen petals
red polished nails that are broken
the phone that doesn’t ring
still waiting…
for the sound that will come
like giant footsteps on hills
just out of reach from the danger
for the tribesmen are swarming
it should come as no surprise
this honeycombed warning
it bit you on the neck
while in the fields you were roaming
so know her not
for what she really is
keep her tucked in the diary veil
for if she escapes
no one will ever believe
that you knew her so well
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 6/19/12
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