I hold a picture of you
in front of my face
and look around
with your eyes to find you.

Your eyes still don't see
in my direction,
even if it makes you
lose sight of yourself.

-

-

-

I call Van Gogh's
starry painting a lie.
There are silhouettes
of buildings, but not
one of them has lights on
with an ensuing argument.
There are stars in
the sky, but not a breaking
moon in the distance.

There's an entire village burning.
I wonder if Van Gogh didn't see it.

~ maybe, he chose not to.
Maybe, we need to choose
our sights too: the ones we paint
and the ones that paint us.

-

Van Gogh didn't see
the world burning.

-

-

I've been both
the yellow that Van Gogh swallowed
to taste joy
and the grey that he mixed more
to feel the night sky.
I'm born in the extremes:
joy and grief,
dark and light,
a love letter and a heart unloved:
you'd think it makes me
difficult to love.
If you ask me, I'd say,
"I don't know,
because I don't care.
All I know is, I fall easy in love.
And that's all that mattered to me."

-

Traded with fireflies upon the cloudless
sky, the tranquil fondness seeps through
decades melancholy. Wrapped in the
emblem of the silver light of
the crescent, we wake up
to a dream so surreal
as if the colours of rainbow
melt upon the aubergine blanket.

(captioned)

-

I hid Van Gogh between
your fingers, so tomorrow
when you complain of
the dark shadows,
you will know that
there's a Starry Night
spilling through your fingers.

-

Rendezvous with Van Gogh

I sit between the mirror and the moon
Adding a colour of turmoil
To Van Gogh’s palette
As eddies of a sweet solitude
Hang above my head

As the song of the fireflies ends
Darkness spreads like a canvass
The myriad shades of the night
Gather on the tip
Of my paintbrush

I dissolve the hues
In a sieve of eternal longings
Watching them slip and drip
Letting them stain
The edges of our existence

I see the reflection
Of a sunflower blooming
In the heart of a Black Hole
In its petals hide
The notes of an unsung song

In the cracks between
The yellows and the blues
I bury my last hope
Now that I have reached
The point of madness
I must hurry beyond

-