it's only when the light is absorbed
that i can think clearly.
most give light to an object to explore its many adventures,
but in most simplest form, i am dark.
light lacks in simplicity;
there are so many colors
hitting at so many angles
here's one there, another one there,
as my brain programs each color that reaches the eyes.
in darkness, there are no colors to distract me,
no aesthetic canvas to show me the world;
in darkness, i don't need a world.
i need light,
and in search of it,
i am profound.
clarity always hides in the most opaque of places.
(c)2004 mai kozai
silence is also music. {3:08 AM}
perfection
not all are perfect,
and perfection is not the topic,
so when you look at me,
look at me with flawed eyes
at a flawed person,
struggling so hard to keep a perfect conversation
at the perfect time,
the perfect setting,
the perfect perfect.
and even then, the topic is not about perfection,
so talk to me with flawed grammar
with a flawed mouth
towards a flawed ear
trying to record a perfect voice.
and even then, the topic is not about perfection,
so don't expect a perfect response,
a perfect dialogue,
a perfect person
out of me.
and even still, the topic is not about perfection,
so don't tell me my eyes don't match my skin,
or that my feet are too big,
or that i am perfect.
(c)2004 mai kozai
silence is also music. {2:59 AM}
the poet
mai sharona.
december 5, 1984.
davis, california.
a sucker for flowers.
