i overheard a dude talking about brownie points. and then i overheard another dude talking about brownie points. and then yet another dude was telling me that he had to ask for special permission because he ran out of brownie points. and then i got to thinking how i used to talk about brownie points all the time and it was depressing. what kind of meek existence do we share if we dish out happiness in small neat serving sized chucks according to an i’ll scratch your back if you suck mine type of points system? people, it’s time to redefine. it’s not worth it otherwise.
i have a new accent / it sounds partly french (in my mind).
breathe cobblestoned coffee / i smoke cigarettes at the same place.
it is spring all year / i am writing poetry.
we are making love / every night (every second morning).
i’ve lost count of the lines / there are never enough mangoes or pears.
these are trivial matters / these are my only matters.
i can explain it all / i don’t care to explain (anymore thankyou).
things are whole / love is tears overwhelming.
i didn’t wait this time / here i am.
seeing your smile at a second past six is all i need
my self legacy has begun
sharing your everything else is wanted
my joy is true
your plans for us are a dream of my past but a pinch for today
my eyes are open
you are addictive
my cure is yes
your love is contagious
who swept who?
humid eyes press tears between yesterday and tomorrow’s promise of forever. a sigh’s breeze blankets us on the summer night’s bed, while finally’s wash over hearts. here we are. here we live. here we hold, and share.
the street dancer passed a pretty girl and called out “what a beautiful one!”
to which she replied with a blushed flushing crimson and widening smile.
they learnt to samba and fell in love
in ninety-nine days.