Satya = Truth

It comes to me as a wry smile

and a glimmer of recognition.

A bubble in the mud

A watery epiphany that emerges from steamy soap suds.

In the language of light of an orange dusk, satiated.

In the sunbeams that dance in my hands.

It comes to me in the orchestra of silence

Of a nocturnal overture

When the blood pulsating in my veins

Translates to the ink on the page

And I am able to paint my discords

And appreciate the asymmetry

This is the only truth I know.



You hitchhiked your way into my heart

You, intruder with a velvet tongue and a knapsack of second hand promises.

You recognized the creases in my face

And your wounds were all too familiar.

We shared the same scars.

But your nomadic existence made me one guiding star in your night sky;

You were only trying to find your way back home.

And I knew, straight away, that you would feed my ego but not my soul.