my teeth are missing

once we hear the rustlesof plastic bag, the heavy footsteps of my dad tired from a day-long toil, we know it's here. the treat we call Indian mangoes. Kings ofPhilippines summer (inhouses where cheaper varieties were considered best) dressed in grass-greenits flesh more honey than vinegar. if you're luckyat its center you may getyour own… Continue reading my teeth are missing

the weight of june

out of curiosity, how does it feel to be the middle month free of fireworks, carols,and turkey? the juicymango sun, the nod-ding daffodils, the terracotta leaves, all are not in your hands. June, doyou feel heavy or light as sand? — 01.06.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative… Continue reading the weight of june

Let me bloom

in between yourhoroscoped-hands’lucky cracks.allow me to takeroot, be anchored sodeep no soap&watercan slip me out of your touch. watch as i unfold—leaf by leaf.before my petals fall, a notice: you areallowed to tastemy fruits, too. — 26.05.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.… Continue reading Let me bloom

a thousand times: after The Kite Runner

yes, for you, a thousand times,a thousand times over.hush. don't roll that question mark out of your tongue.you never questionthe lyrics of hummingbirds'afternoon noon song, never doubted each stroke ofsunset, all hues're never wrong. hush, let lick straightyour forehead knots, come listen, closer, for you, a thousand times,a thousand times over. — 26.05.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading… Continue reading a thousand times: after The Kite Runner

moon’s eyes: a haibun

A bat flies towards the berry tree. If it has a fruit on its mouth, it's too dark to see. The dinner's curry cooks with cumin, turmeric, kashmiri, with some cinnamon bark and cardamom, too. Afternoon's rain anointed the soil just before the stars woke up. The spiced-breeze eats up the last tinge of petrichor.… Continue reading moon’s eyes: a haibun

thawing

Here. Let’s share my mitten-hand. I’m from the tropics— tower of sea and sand. I know. I know you understand. Here. Let’s share my early coffee cup, blessed with its own shadow-thin cloud. No, darling, don’t look up. Here. Come here. My wrapped arms warm and raw. Melt with me before this dear mountain thaws.… Continue reading thawing

shhh: a pleiades*

sing to me Polaris' songsteady, constant of the north.show my midnight lullabysoftly rocking, back and forth.see the map on my pillowsalted as sunbathing seas.shoo my fears, shoo them for me. — 11.25.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. — For dVerse Poetics:… Continue reading shhh: a pleiades*

the invisible cycle: a tanka*

once smooth as petals will shrink into a crumpled autumn leaf, waiting for annual earth's melting tofertilise spring's kids. — 11.20.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. — For dVerse MTB: Jisei (Japanese Death Poems) The *tanka is a thirty-one-syllable poem, traditionally written in a single… Continue reading the invisible cycle: a tanka*

see me see you

earth's coating on late autumn (ayard of naked trees open for theearly frost) not death but a promisestamped on your irises' bows. — 11.18.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. — For dVerse Poetics: Look into my Eyes Did you see the hidden word?… Continue reading see me see you

take a seat and see

rolled sunset crawlsto kiss whale's home,persimmon spilled.wilted leaves archtowards foliage tomb,autumn fulfilled. cold keys hangvoid of fingers, warm, bite the seed of hopewill it burst somebitter crumb? consider the possibilityof wings once our breathssuccumb — 11.17.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.… Continue reading take a seat and see