Author: poetryfest

There is no safe word
the pull of his face as he stares deep into its depths
He can’t tear himself away
consumed by an all-encompassing lure

the fish flash their tails, wondering who is this man?
billions of dollars have fallen into his trap,
this trap to snatch the attention away at a moment’s glance
like super-glue adhesive, his face appears bigger, closer, nearer

in the mirror, it says that things appear closer than they appear
and for him, this is true as well

he tries to recall wether or not if he can swim?
He’s not positive exactly if he can, but he may as well lie

The valley’s and dips float past the stream, and he reaches his fingers out

He feels the coolness of the water’s surface,
wondering if it were some sort of trick

He had never heared of water before —
His tongue is dry, and he longs for his throat to be quenched
he wonders what it might taste like, he’s forgotten the smell
Taking off the mask that he always wears on his face,
he sniffs at his wet fingers

Disappointed, he leans closer, studying the way his jawline fixes
his eyes glowing with the curiousity of knowledge. He knows now
that he has a beautiful face.

He touches his lips, the fullness of the bottom, and the curve of
cupid’s bow, two small points like a cat,
Kiss me, his lips seem to say, as they move in the reflection

He sees her appear, the woman of his lusts and dreams
standing right behind him
but he’s no long able to tell wether or not she were a figment of his imagination
she talks to him and he doesn’t answer

she crosses her arms since it’s evident that he is blind and deaf to the
all of reality, time and space

she flexes her arms, as he begins to drown, trying with all her might to pull him away
but he won’t fight for his life,
water won’t splash as he chokes,

he thinks this is air, and she screams for help

her face is ghostly, as he stares up at her now
a woman in a flowing white dress, her attention on something away
He doesn’t see that she is beautiful, but he wonders if she might be

as he becomes one with the water, consumed by a tasteless,
odorous liquid

he feels, for once, like he were no longer lonely

A flower appears at the feet of the girl,
she falls to her knees to look at it properly

Narcissus, she whispers.

The man who knew how to love himself

I held you like a pebble
but you were a boulder on my chest
I have found a safer way to
seduce the cold
than by burying my breath
beneath your weight
I have tip toed in the fairest parts
of your rigid soul
and I have found that we are
synonymous with
trickling drops of weighted rain
waiting for some great hand to wipe us away
if you are happier with speckled features
then hold me to all accounts
for my foreboding tongue
has a way of twisting knots
out of fragile situations
and my fabled feet
have made a living
at evading
I once saw us in starlight
and now on brighter nights
I trace a skyline
sewn together by empty verse
and I can almost taste
the breath
that I had captured with the cold
I can almost feel a pebble
where stone met flesh and bone

Why does he close the door to say goodbye to me.
What doesn’t he want our friends to see?
I imagine that his roommate—my friend—
is peering through the peephole
and I imagine there are people
walking down this hall
I imagine what they’d think
of the embrace he’s giving me.
But nobody’s there to confirm what I see.
And later, when I have my suitcase and we’re
pausing by the staircase, wordless, my ride waiting in the garage—
I drop my disguise and grab him again
I hear him drop my duffel and feel both his arms
wrap around me.
Any question of love automatically answered
by the pressure on my ribs.
I know it’s not possible. I move to let go but he pulls me back into him
briefly, takes the
air out of my lungs with the force of it.
My chin brushes his hair when he lets go.
Anything but a kiss, I know.

Peeled back, the black lace on your thighs,
Pink silk sheets and Born To Die echoing off mist-kissed windows.

Fistfuls of soft onyx strands twist in my grip,
Cognac-laced lips speak sweet meaningful nothings.

Hopeful breaths mixed with astonishment,
Moist words sneak through clenched teeth.

Opaque whispers crawl along the bassline,
Reverberating, getting stronger in the silence.

Flickers of tangerine candlelight tiptoe across your shoulders.

The two laid on their backs, looking up at the night sky atop a shed’s roof. She turned her head to look at him.
“Is that pizza place open?” she asked.
“I think so.”
“Do you want pizza?”
“Do you?” she shot back.
“Why did you bring up pizza?” he teased.
She most definitely wanted pizza. He most definitely didn’t care what she wanted or where she wanted to go. He’d take her.

The sun was hot upon the dusty ground
Where knights in metal dress contended for
The hand of maiden fair. One would be crowned
Her prince. And yet, the princess did abhor
Dull competition and these games of war.
But then she met a knight who who made her grin,
With whom she found a startling rapport
For they were both constrained by fortune’s whim:
The shining armour masked a girl therein.
A feeling grew within the maiden’s soul,
A flutt’ry, trembly tumult deep within,
A spark becoming flame out of control.
And when her knight had triumphed, tourney done,
The princess also felt as though she’d won.

Cliché to say your eyes
But I stare into Caribbean oceans at sunrise
I feel each forehead kiss
gentle silent lips

I feel the silky skin of your shoulder on my cheek,
you caress it like misty rain.
You pull the blanket over me when you get up
pure passion’s kiss, that says I’ll miss you at work.
And that I’m enough.

You hand me a hot mug and pour me cereal.
I sit, and we laugh at reels.
Exploding with laughter, till our lungs almost break.
I learned that love is not give or take.

You tickle me until we lay on the ground,
Surround me with your arms.
I don’t mind being disarmed around you
This loving comfort I never knew existed.

You don’t seem to mind
How things slip my memory
How sometimes my mind gets to me.
You hold me the way the ocean holds the sand.
I don’t always understand,
You love me anyway.
Whisper “it’s all gonna be okay”.
So I lay here.

I daydream in memories of romance
and the ones that make me talk too loud.
I’m proud, grateful, for the lines we test.
For my best friend.
The gentle dances, the singing car rides.
Because of you, every day gets to be a surprise.

You hold me, gently,
Calm the raging storm inside me.
Melt my fiercest thoughts.
I forgot about the knots in my hair,
But I don’t mind when you play with it to show you care.

I trace the lines on your palm, interlace my fingers
with your working man hands.
I make plans.
And treasure the beautiful now.

The now,
embraces that
I never want to push you away.
“it’s all gonna be okay”.
I finally believe you will stay.
Maybe it is going to be okay

You made the first move,
I admit. But may I?—I never

considered that a question.
Now I pantomime a nod

and a kiss, and all my jokes—
I use them like little tents.

A pipe could burst somewhere important. It could cause our floors to swell,
or make the ceiling drizzle onto our decadelong accrual of bargain bin albums,
and still, all I’d care about is how we can make our chocolate linguine tonight.
A half night of sleep lost over what to pair with our gorgonzola cream sauce,
over the wasted handful of parsley you snipped from the stalk just yesterday.
I’d cringe at the memory of clinking forks, even if they are swallowed up by the sound of distant fireworks. Or the tenor saxophone being played amidst the smattering of food trucks under the downtown pavilion. Or the umpire’s calling of ball four on the home team pitcher just before the phone rings in the bull pen.
The crown molding would sweat, and the wallpaper would curl, long before I’d ever speak lamentations of the morning sun slants or the headless streetlights. I’d sooner swish and swallow the dew like a sip of our finest bottle of Kentucky Proud Cabernet.
Our lights would flicker like a first kiss, like eyelids, like lips colliding in a dorm room, like hot to the touch and prickly. And I’d think,
maybe we could get a last-minute reservation at the Italian joint, and maybe if we showed the hostess our warped Billy Joel sleeve, she could squeeze us in anyway.
We’d be knee deep in our unintended new pool, and my toes would still find yours, and we’d go fishing for the stock pot and diving for the strainer. And I’d have just enough time to ask about your brother’s new girlfriend when the waves come rushing in, relentless and heavy, and sweep us clear down the stairs.
We would ebb along, bounce like buoys against white caps, and you’d tell me she’s fine, if not a little immature for her age.

You are special to me,
but not special in the way that you think,
I don’t believe you hung the moon and stars,
but when I look at you I will myself not to blink.

Because I don’t want to lose a single second,
of memorizing your features,
If I could stare at you forever it would not be enough,
and I’m not saying that because we are stupid teenagers.

But because you are special to me,
and not just special in your face,
though it feels like God spent extra time carving that,
just by existing you have become my safe space.

A place to be myself,
never have to pretend for even a second,
to be somebody I’m not,
and just for that, in my mind you are a legend.

Your voice soothes something in my soul,
that my mind could not ever comprehend,
my dreams are always filled with thoughts of us together,
even if for now it’s just pretend

You are special to me,
special in a different way,
the way that knows there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you,
and I hope you know I am here for you at any time of any day.

There is never an end to conversations with you,
and I don’t ever want that to change,
there’s never a time I don’t want to talk to you,
I could yap for hours you still wouldn’t think I’m strange.

No, you still look at me with that same look in your eyes,
the one that hasn’t changed from the start,
the look that says “some day I will marry you”,
the one I have memorized and lives rent-free in my heart.

You are so special to me,
more special than words could explain,
the kind of special that no matter how hard I tried,
I know I won’t ever find the same again.

But that doesn’t matter,
because I am not letting you go,
through thick and thin remember,
we pinky-promised and those are unbreakable you know.

Special is such a simple word,
but I can’t think of another,
because English has not yet come up with a word,
to describe how much more I feel for you than I do for any other.

So I’ll stick to calling you special,
and hope you know that you are much more than that.
You are so special to me,
that I would leave everything to be with you at the drop of a hat.

And that’s kind of terrifying,
but exciting all the same,
because I know you would do the exact same for me,
no matter what time that call came.

You are more than just special to me,
and I think you already know that,
but you should also know that you will always be special to me,
nothing and no one could ever change that fact.

-Diya Nettikadan 2024/07/28.