Twenty two and nine months.

Twenty two and nine months
A gulping tyrant wave
Washing me up
Into the coffee I sip amongst colleagues
Razor lights shard the impending November morning,
The bare trees are painted in kohl.

Time subtly translates life to obscurity.
Leaving only tampered images
She is slow and methodical in her work
Un weaving three and one year of you and me.
No longer can I be the vacant bystander,
Inert; longingly transfixed upon her movements.

I take out your carefully carved china doll face
and briefly evoke my indulgence.
How I acquainted myself with it
By tracing my nose over its contours,
Your chocolate silk hair never bored my finger tips;
I still smell it, taste it, recall it; mellifluous.

Twenty two and nine months.
You refuse to depart me.
Time grows faint;
She becomes weary,
Converting you into poignant impressions
Haunting my torn mentality.
Pale and crinkled;
Scattered blemishes adorn her;
Relentlessly trying to plaster memories
into the cracks that you left.
Her work too protracted
For me to sense advancement.

I see you fighting with her.
Resurrecting what she dismantles.
I am a Russian doll.
With you housed inside me.
I remove the top layer
There you are,
Completed by jovial nonchalant countenance;
A wonky smile laces a gaudy pun.
In a land of ruins
Amongst battered street of crumbled buildings
You are an oblivious tycoon.
Perpetually wreaking havoc with my psyche.

As I smile wearily to greet the doorman,
You are twelve feet tall,
Casting monumental shadows over
The commuters and the cars.
Creating the dusty hue of the November morning,
Upstaging autumn in his tracks.
My finger nails claw your legs.
Crimson dents and scrapes are ladders I climb.
Scrambling and chafing I fall down.
I never reach the top or climb over the other side.

I’d like to reduce you to portions
So I can swallow;
Like a hyena in famine
I grab you in my jaw and tear you to rubble.
Feeling your blood bursting forth with mire
Like stagnant summer fruits
Corroding in the frosty undergrowth.
Their rancid juices make me gag and disgorge.
Like a hairball
You suffocate me
Before I cast you back to the world.
A child re born,
You are resurrected.
Unable to pay for my sins.

Relentlessly broken.
Too many parts to replenish the whole.
You are ingredients,
Baking yourself together again.
Crumpled, scattered paper boy,
Stuck together with glue.
Crumbling burnt bake cookie man,
Too coal and charred to chew.
Decadent degradation,
In the hum of a cloud of flies.
The parasites mull over you,
They shriek and they stamp
While they break you to nothing

Though you remain in my dwelling.
I round up armies of violent thoughts,
Then command them to chase you away
With Fiery torches and pitch folks.
They are firing blinding shots into the dawning February sky;
I had to watch it until the light crawled through:
Before I could sleep again.
You remain anesthetized,
Buoyant and refined
As our first and last words.
Unharmed and un warned;
Immune to the blaze of scorn I throw.