Unanswered Prayers

At the end of another decade a new exile
will be lying -obsessive yet humble-
Putting an edge on the morning consolations,
a compulsive enmity, woken once more,
under the somber and sober eyelids
feeding their longing stare
in no direction.
In twos
we confide
our regrets only:
our cheeks and mouths covered up
unable to rationalize the whispering drafts,
the autobiographical tenacity of a misfortunate shelf
always in between,
its noble denial scars -its space,
rented to old, overshadowed masks
turning down reconciliation offers
from angels,
forgiveness promises
from sculptures in disguise
and truces
from prodigal martyrs.
What a ridiculous bloom of anticipation
Since the truth never abandons your guilty eyes!

Evidence of an Injured Mirror

Caring too much if we are loved even when we don’t care back
Surviving our own delusions for a life time
Longing for too long in places we don’t belong
Staring at familiar imperfections along the way
Re-inventing the wrongs of the past with masochistic grandeur
Hallucinating our worth, resuscitating hope
Changing our minds after forgiving our trespassers
Taking everything back and returning the gifted testimonials
-To puzzle the senders -
Expecting it will cut out for good the old good days that we leave behind
Ostracized by revengeful scenarios,
Fraternizing with temporary allies that we formerly used to despise,
Racing against imagined enemies, beside imaginary friends
Oversleeping and being late
for life-changing dates which never take place
Crying the same
on weddings and funerals
Looking up words which don't exist in advanced learners'dictionaries
Unable to tell the difference between a fake smile and a self-destructive pride
Mutilating our hopes, amputating our desires,
Not-knowing
We only have deeds to regret instead of feelings or thoughts.

Diluted Dilusions

You fret and fume about almost nothing
these days
You keep my eyesight short
I- for a change - empty the hours
From the prejudice bowls
And egregious blunder grandeur;
Regrets are only indicative
Consecutive
Like pay back times
On the brink of an out-of-order grave
broken and dug again
from scratch
A self-propelled wing
Deviated by the presence of a finish line
Makes up proverbs about deer footprints,
mistletoe and honeycombs
There's no more room for letting down.