04 November 2014


I’ve been on a hunt.
I’ve been searching for my name.

It’s not on my door
I’ve looked:
Only a number to be found there.
Perhaps it’s hiding underneath
That marble-veined slab of rock,
But I’ll never know,
I can’t lift a marble-veined
Slab of rock on my own.

I won’t say goodbye,
I’ll just walk outside as usual–
A little chilly, but fresh air.
Let’s shake on it.
My name wasn’t there.

What’s that on your lips?

Oh my, it’s everything,
I can see everything
When I look at your lips.
There, that’s a grain of sand.
Is that the complete Shakespeare
On your lips?
Yes, it is, right there, next to
A wrinkle left by your pillow case.
The Taj Mahal is on your lips.
I didn’t know you had seen
That particular sunset,
You carry the memory of it on your lips.
The Star Spangled Banner et La
Marseillaise sont sur tes lèvres, 
But my name- 
I can't find my name on your lips.

Along the border of vermilion  
And gathered at the cupid’s bow
Are epic myths and all your poems
Even a spot for me to leave
A verse and kiss upon,
But how to get the same in return?
No such is generated for someone
Without a name.

And what’s in a name but proof
That once we labored upon this earth
And took from it,

But also gave back if we were fortunate to know

Flesh to flesh we loved,
How well we loved!

I will continue hunting for my name.
This time, a search more thorough
Of your lips.
Perhaps it hides beneath
Your poems of unrequited love,
Although in truth, those are few.
Perhaps during a moment of secret
Anguish, your sigh displaced it, my name,
To an unexplored region
Of your enticing, endearing,                                                    
             they are so very delicious…