When there is nothing left to burn
You have to set yourself on fire

God that was strange to see you again
Introduced by a friend of a friend
Smiled and said 'yes I think we've met before'
In that instant it started to pour

Captured a taxi despite all the rain
We drove in silence across Pont Champlain
And all of that time you thought I was sad
I was trying to remember your name

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin
You tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in
And now you're outside me you see all the beauty
Repent all your sin

It's nothing but time and a face that you'll lose
I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
I'll write you a postcard, I'll send you the news
From the house down the road, from real love

Live through this and you won't look back
Live through this and you won't look back
Live through this and you won't look back

There's one thing I have to say so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted, I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

~Star

Musalmaan aur hindu hai do,
ek magar unka pyala.
Ek magar unka madiralay,
ek magar unki haala.
Dono rehte saath na jab tak mandir masjid mein jaate.
Bair badhate mandir-masjid, mel karati madhushala.

~Harivanhrai Bacchan.

THE LANGUAGE

Locate I
love you some-
where in

teeth and
eyes, bite
it but

take care not
to hurt, you
want so

much so
little. Words
say everything.

I
love you
again,

then what
is emptiness
for. To

fill, fill.
I heard words
and words full
of holes
aching. Speech
is a mouth.

© 1987 Robert Creeley

How can someone not love this poem.
It is burned into my skin now.

A quiet tear rolls down your lips.
The faint taste of warmth and salt.
A half let-out sigh,
And the half inside.
Heavy on your heart.
Oh! this heavy heart.
And the sudden weakness of your thighs,
You go crashing down.
On the floor,
A crumpled figure.
Spasming. This episodic pain.


How will you explain the scars on your wrists?
These bracelets are not doing a good job of hiding them.

To rebel because you want to look cool.

To rebel because you support a cause with your heart.

And to support something passionately and become a rebel, by default.

I think of you, when I am working,

And the research document I read,
Comes as whispers from my lips,
Like a song that has been hushed.

I find rhythm in everything now.
Why have you taught me this?