sea stills

I tasted sea salt in the air today
and all the hues of blue –
rich aquamarine waters
a tart turquoise by the beach
but clear, crystal blue by the pier;
a palette for the palate
perfect for a wanderer’s thirsting soul

now: gliding on the ocean back
to the glassy labyrinth called home
froth-tipped lapis lazuli waves
goodbye, come back soon 



an arpeggio of islands:
staggered, similar, same same but different.
we were once an archipelago,
bridged by similar interests and
illuminated by late-night texts
in the dark nothingness of the sea and sky.

we drifted
over international waters
over time

shared history often stays (or becomes)
as we move to new time zones,
we’ll discover what our bridges were really made of:
proximity or community.

same stars, same skies, different eyes

I’ve changed since
these stars last shone over me
in a darker sky, under a colder breeze
I had a falsely full heart

it’s strange how the stars –
so distant, timeless, celestial –
kept me grounded all this while.
I can’t quite see them now
but I think it’s alright:
I have enough light in my life that
I don’t need them to lead the way anymore


it’s amazing how far someone can reach:
gently rippling across the pond, the straits, and the seas
across countries and beyond friends
to people they didn’t even know existed

and it’s amazing how quickly
ripples turn to tides
when the source stops –
a tsunami:
wave after wave of flooding and crashing
tears and turmoil and seemingly endless rain
ironically hurt and numb at the same time

there comes a day
when the storm will pass
and it will be calm again
though the absence of ripples
will always be missed


Sometimes it’s hard to find the right words and I always end up turning to poetry. My heart hurts so much for you; you don’t deserve any of this with everything you have going on. I hope that you will be alright, and I’ll be right here if you need me.


tram road

home is where the streets are a mess:
under the drizzle of tram wires and rain
there are strollers and collars and noise
and exhaust from busses and people alike

home is
the blend of shops and flats
sleek black and glass fitted between faded blocks
bakeries and realty and decade-old businesses
haphazardly doled out along the sides of the road

home is
pavements just wide enough for those
who know how to weave and swerve and avoid
almost as instinctively as breathing

and most importantly
home is
the long stretch of tarmac that runs east-west —
from it and through it —
the island-wide vein that connects us all

watch this sp(ace)

black was the dark
oblivious to our differences and thinking
hot celebrities and one night stands were just
the latest “in” trend
grey was murky awareness
non-stop questions and exploring
fighting self-doubt with evidence
and trying so hard to understand
white is enlightenment
finally understanding that i will only ever
get it in theory
the same way the colourblind view colours –
how can i explain what i don’t feel
if i’ve never felt it?

purple is community, is fitting in
feeling real and valid with
other people who’ve had the same
questions, thoughts, experiences
and feeling like i belong