scared

Feet on the edge of a cliff, hanging, hanging, just one more push Mr. Wind. Yet sweaty hands cling, cling, to unseen twigs, not willing, not willing, to dive, deep, deep, into the pit of love. I have always been brave, blunt, honest, but I cannot leap, else I’ll be a mess. Yes,  I am […]

wish come true

You are asking why I haven’t been writing lately about love, well, it’s because you do not utter a wish every night once you can already hold it with your bare hands. So why I haven’t been writing about love it’s because I already have you. r. c. gonzales – roy | page 138 of […]

t w o w o r l d s

Find me in silent corners where the horizon’s mouth swallows another burning ball, licks the cool sky in pastel blush in front of all. Find me in soft, tender nighttime blanket, sipping a the third cup of my daily coffee haul. Find me inside the chosen shell of solitude where thoughts are slowly eaten, gingerly […]

the definition of home

He walks ahead of me with his old rucksack and a carton box he asked from a store owner politely. A couple, giggling in front of him, stopped laughing to cross the road, perhaps afraid of his dirt-filled skin. I trace his steps under the faint moonglow not to say a shy hello, but to murmur […]

postal code stamps

Our tongues are dancing muscles sprinkled with the magic dust of languages, as if before birth we’re treated on a buffet of diverse dialects and accents where we select how our mouths will circle and arch to utter each twisted word’s lyrical march, but pause and place your vein-hand in the middle of your breasts, […]

words’ way

Perhaps, there is, maybe, a biological malfunction in me, instead of a mouth singing to the tune of bell-voiced hymns the language of my soul speaks not with dust-tongued shrieks but with the dancing lettered-runes under a smiling owl-light moon, tiptoeing from my scarlet muscle-cave flowing, twirling with each brainwave until they reach the tip of […]

f l u i d f a i t h

Feeble waves made of infant dusk’s soft wind, liquid mirror glows with sunset’s pastel rind. Fallen plumeria floats, decaying but still blooming, faith, be fluid like water — rippling, shape-shifting, unending. 04.10.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo by Chelsea Audibert on Unsplash Inspired by dVerse Poetics: Water, Water Everywhere . 

evening snake

Where is my home? Outside, the evening snake is lit, on right it’s filled with patches of white, on left it’s a strawberry jam of red. Wait, perhaps, it’s not a snake, it is but, a curved paved skin of earth, where tiny, tiny, earthlings who think they own the world, are scrambling inside their […]

a c r o n y m

Watch her arch her burdened back, Open her bruised arms, far and wide, Murmur tearful yet grateful chants, As she inhales hate and breathe out Nothing, oh nothing, but love. — 03.08.2019 ©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo by Larm Rmah on Unsplash For dVerse OpenLinkNight #238  

midnight wish

open palms, wet with salt of sweat and tears, reach out outside as glass pane’s fog clears, like a yearning new branch of a house-caged vine bending, sneaking, reaching out for sun, these palms, brined with my excreted liquids stretch out to feel the breath of the cold December wind, wishing this same midnight breeze […]