the sieve and the sand

creature born out of spite
contemptuous flesh of mud
How long before the garish sun
turns you to dust?
How long before the teary sky
washes you out?

contemplate him not,
Heed not his shrill cries,
abomination is upon him.

creature born out of grace
luminescent piece of heaven
The jealous moon turns pale at
the sight of you.
The wind weeps in awe at the
touch of you.

Revere him,
seek his warm soothing embrace,
God is on his side.

creature born out of a random drop
innocuous crack on the surface
Puppet in the circus of life
Pauper on the floor of the world

Trample him not,
feed not his ravenous sorrow,
time will spit him out.

There exist
stares, glances
which break silences
or spoil mornings
when she seeks a soft word, a loving word
at the foot of the bed
where only used slippers should lie adrift,
out of choice.
She said she dreamt a hope and hoped a dream
where I could be her protector.
I grimaced a smile while shamefully wishing
her to fade somewhere beneath the pillow or the carpet.
I can’t even snore in peace anymore!
She is always on the lookout
for a slip up, but
I was a faux pas from the first day we met
She mistook my drunken cheerfulness for a pleasant personality
She even thought me a sweet thing or maybe a sure thing
These days, she just pokes, pinches me at the crack of dawn
hoping to catch and squeeze my vulnerable self before the sourness kicks in.
In my long short life I’ve never been big on refunds or exchanges
once something is in my hands,
no matter how chipped, dysfunctional or useless,
I still keep it.
But that painful light
so heavy under her eyes
she calls it love; and I want it away.
I want to bring her back to that street, to that time
where her smile was full and her eyes less needy and sad
I could bathe in chocolate and strawberry creme
but I would never be the satiating treat she craves;
all I can do is give her up.