 Cover Photo by Ravindra Patoju This poem attempts to explore the crevices between the white and the black, the grey area, where most of us practically live but rarely call our home. Troubled boy, desperate for me I lay my eyes on you And fall for your cruelty Honey my heart’s got no beat You left your lighter in my sheets Rather impetuous, rather weak Smokey you kiss me wild I run my fingers through your insecurities Stirring the blankness of your mind Don’t step on my cold floor, with bare feet I promise no warmth at four If you walk in that door, for heat You’re a runner, you never unpack I’m no settler either, I say Yet every week you’re back Draw the warmth out of my torn chest To fill yourself up And rest and rest Make my eyes water And dry me out until I light a clove and down a quarter Collect my tears with both your hands and wash them Clean of me Of all sane things, and condemn Wipe my memory clean, knock me out Choke me with deep kisses I have an appetite for doubt Leave me with the deafening quiet of my heart My heart’s got no beat And you got no heart Troubled boy, desperate for peace Rip me apart mercilessly And do as you please Honey my heart’s got no beat Nothing you can do about it Nothing you can cheat.
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