Poem: Your Name’s a Sin…

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Happiness is shared sadness,
and sadness is happiness in solitude.
And I feel both cloaked around me,
as I sit by the hotel-room window
looking down at the sleeping city,
its lights jangling like a
million bejeweled irises sparkling
to untold delights—
Happiness is what I should feel,
but sad is better company; ’cause there’s nothing left here for me—
for, what is a world without you in it?

Every room is a cage;
four walls that once constituted the
solace of our shared joys, cries,
laughs, and playful nudges,
the flights of narrative, and simple philosophy,
and the childish wonder of sated sighs,
and of adjective silences.

Every room is a cage, it’s filled with longing
mingling with the silent shadows like nerve gas—
it’s crippling, especially now,
especially since my breath has been replaced by  an
endless prayer of sighs

Every room is a hall of mirrors,
the images haunt like crooked reflections;
they shape and forge in the spaces
between the shadows
and give off a cold heat that’s frost-bite to my soul.

Every room is a broken church,
no gods dwell here,
the walls are bare, and the pews occupied by weeds
and vines,
the candles are like ashes—
there was a fire here once,
there was incense too…

Every room is a tomb,
but I refuse to harden in my place;
in this self-appointed undying.

I leave the window and exit the room—

So I sleep in the balcony,
am not alone here, the wind keeps me,
The wind listens to my confession,
the patience of a snail,
her silence makes me want to fill it with your name
but your name chokes in my mouth,
I’ve forgotten it’s taste,
and now it’s like sin buried in the
boundless ashes of a saint—
is that it then, your memory’s a sin?
Do I need to be repented of it?

I should never remember you
like you’re gone—
you’ll live through me—
is why I can’t call your name,
names are meant to be answered to…
Am sad I can’t call out your name,
(Your name’s a sin—)
but I’m happier knowing you’ll one day answer its call.
(—That only you can absolve)

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