Written by Trini Rogando – Instagram: trini.writes


for rishubh and james

before the after, we were neither
all at once. 

we meet for the first time on this page,
tangled within created syllables
that pull at our hair and tug
at our jeans. strangeness hangs
between us like a hospital curtain
or the velvety fabric of spacetime—
impenetrable and thick, but with
ink our skin melts into chorus and our
hearts are free to warble matching tongues. 

i ask:
can you breathe there?

you say:
these twilit spaces sigh deeply,
expanding light upon bruises of stars
that heal with the warmth from earthen blooms.

you like the wordplay of poetry, the freedom
and detachment of singing your soul into prose.
you scribble your mark all over this paper stomach
and birth creation in its fullest—

or
i think you do. i squint, hard as i might
through the haze of metaphor and death,
trying to recognize your form in stanzas
that are three times removed from their fathers.

i wish i knew your wishes,
for i could then pen them down 
with confidence that the shooting stars
would smile at my trill and diction.

instead, this greeting never occurs,
yet the farewell lingers: a bated
caesura lisping
                           what if,
                                          what if,
                                                         what if.

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