Decree

Perceptions are arbitrary
linens, beneath
gazing we lay
at the distant stars
of life’s night and day.

Buried hatchets within we carry
an ache, is not necessarily of a fissure
To stranger smiles we marry
a laugh, does not always belong to pleasure.

we are not just men of love
we are not just men of hate

Somewhere we are, also
those unspoken handshakes
of our hearts and minds;
Sometime we are, also
those incomplete deeds
we give in to, agreed and unagreed

On those summer nights ahead
when stars drop low by the open window
And we lay many a linens apart

Think of us; if you do
not just by the dark shadows
we hung by the selfish door
but as well by the colourful smiles
we spilled on the spotless floor.

Think of us; when you do
not just of what we held onto dearly so
but also of what we painfully let go….