Sleepy afternoon sunshine

Lulling dancing branches to slumber

A secret backyard sundial

Soothing the air-conditioned tiles

Nada

The mantis dances over the shadows to imitate the

Way the sink sounds when you wash dishes—slow,

Delicate violence. Clinks by design. Ceramic song.

I sing and the curtain allows me this disco—it never ends.

The window painted in rust. All by design.

Leandro

Mossy river-shaven pebbles transported

To grayed concrete-laden grid cityscapes 

Alluding to erased re-manufactured lands

Gratifying biophilic deprived breadwinners  

Nada

Balance is organic. Stay still and watch it grow on you. It is

Green and waggish—jokey even. Fall down with me, darling,

I will break my arm for a good laugh, it will be worth every

Syllable. I’ll name the underarm crutches after you if you’d let me.

Stay down with me, darling, stay still, let your name grow on you.

Leandro

A farmer’s woven shield laid to rest

Propped against a rusted greenhouse frame

Is accompanied by the humid-stricken box

Riddled with mystery dials and indicators

Nada

Stinky doesn’t even come close. So come close. Inhale my day,

Hold it in for six seconds, remember the orangeness of 1997

Sunsets, 5—an out of place flower in a vase, 4—don’t you wish

You were the one who named flowers, 3—you’re forgetful, very.

2—orchids will probably be used twice, 1—both of them will be

wrong.

Leandro

A wire-thin flower’s stigma radiates 

Fluorescent green luminosity, a deceiver of

Droopy metropolitan minds, hungering for

A birthright detailing the pre-anthropocene

Nada

Pretty-ass chandeliers. Am I right? Now that’s high art. it has to be

Electric, lofty, and dignified. In the name of the pinky finger,

Judge me, I will bend over and will not break. Neither will

I call myself brighter. The dullness you bestowed upon me

Is irrelevant to my yearning for pretty-ass stains over these

Garments, again, all by design, to cover my pretty-ass ass.

Leandro

Dal-scented booth coated in pastel reflections

Invites reminisces of labyrinth-infused 

string lights and festooned rituals of joy

Chaperoned by fleeting friendships

Nada

The glass reflects light, unexpectedly accurate, it disappoints me.

Brightness should not be easy. If this persists, I will lobby to

social-cancel phosphate cause—cause how dare she.

Leandro

Cyanotype treated blueprint of a Starbucks

In Manilla, Ammonium Ferric Citrate infused

Memory captivity, scented with Potassium

Ferricyanide nostalgia and leaf-shaped foam

Nada

If you squint hard enough, blue isn’t so bad. Drown, with me, in this

Cozy, stream of wood, nutmeg in the air, and sidewalks. Sidewalks are ideas

That we visit every now and again, with stray cats who know earth as bed,

Concrete as home.

Leandro

Accidental astigmatism of the phone camera

Confiscates unintentional moments and 

Transforms night-lights into neon-gooey

Twinkle twinkle little stars of wonder

Nada

I love you, my kerosine laden dream, do you believe it? If you don’t, let me

Turn into the currency you can buy jade with, afford a quiet with me someday,

If you let me, we will spend it fast and make the wind work for its worth inside us.

Permit me, please, this expense. Imagine the jingle of keys, miles and miles from here.

Leandro

Grainy sunset sets precedence over 

School-night curfew, no consequence will

Expedite my walk home, as I inhale 

Pixelated grass and globulated trees

Nada

When the cows learned how to turn their milk pink, the grass actually grew greener, the bees learned mooing and clouds followed soon. The sundown grew thirsty. This is how I know I am not a drawing, I am incapable of turning pink—no, I don’t want to believe it. No? Don’t you want to lift my shirt and see pathetic-skin-only skin, in all its non-pinkness. The buckets I own are non-metal. Vanilla, compared to cows, compared to pink milk cows.

Leandro

Relentless roots and vivacious vines 

Stand firm and overtake mislabeled land

Olive-branch scented but the dove don’t

Smile, claws bloodied from the land to the sea

Nada

Explain to me disaster, said she,

while asking the vine to crawl sideways.

Injury from falling is more pathetic

than unfortunate. In response, I mumble:

explain to me unfortunate.

Leandro

Monsoon mud-caked shrine sworn to

Hello Kitty divinity lost its celestial

Shine, as devotion dwindled and its

Young follower moved to a new home

Nada

Drool. Don’t puke in the lababo baby. Kiss me

Before your lungs give out. May I have this dance?

Picture me crawling towards your bed, this is how

I begin to fail, take me as the remembrance of

Your best mistakes—the prettiest too.

Leandro

Toys rally against a local housing crisis 

as Madinat Zayed shopkeepers spur

Immigration of the melting-pot worthy, toying

With the livelihoods of the mass-manufactured

Nada

I’ve lost so much to collected things. Contained

My urge to forget the teddy bear witness to all

We utter under aphonia. I’ll love you again

When your shrill comes back. For now, neon lights.

For now, makeshift ornaments for a passable Christmas

Don’t go running off too far. I cure quick.

Leandro

Messenger-snail side-tracked by delectable

Autumn leaves, will find infuriated pixies

Awaiting their promised parcels, wrapped in

Bark and twine, glued shut with mucus

Nada

I digress. Pardon my honesty, you look pretty on stone.

Somewhere in Taiwan is a shell. I will look for it when

I’m gone. And pretend to give it to you after you’re gone.

Speed was never your speed anyway. Sit pretty for me

In the meantime, we still have a lifetime to waste.

Leandro

Nomadic fae capitalize on itsy-bitsy

Shrooms mimicking seasonal Fall 

Leaves as temporary dwellings, their

Pit-stops of mischief and horseplay

Nada

CUT!!! When the lights shut off. I start yearning for your

Sunroof again. Your mother’s a pretend movie star who

Spends way too much on food. No wonder you speak in

Mushroom, say my name again, please. Extravagant. Kiss.

Rolling, rolling. Test me, I’m not as rooted as you are.

Leandro

Paganistic forest hares deify the

Maternal cicerone who composes

Forestal topographies conducive to

Burrowing new homes for their babes

Nada

When you look at me like that, I imagine running through heath,

Not necessarily with you, but not necessarily without either. I see

How you can’t see me hopping through sharp stones and undertreated

Land. Barefoot of course, otherwise, safe. Loving is never safe. It is looking

Always. Like this eye-to-eye thing, dangerous as a jackhammer.

Leandro

Chin Swee caves’ guardian lays dormant

Coated in a thin film of bird excrement 

Grinning in its sleep for the day it is 

Called to safeguard its temple

Nada

Because your shadow smiles like a cartoon and try to spell out

All the knocks in morse. You use mishearings in your poem

And your muse is always sleepy. Your writing, a self portrait

Done in animated doodles. Because you’re in love with your

Own lungs, because you recognize my knocks, all of them.

Leandro

A siren’s painted mask and beaded hair

Obscures her true sinister nature, as the

Song sinks its anesthetic influence into 

Unsuspecting spectators of her theater

Nada

The shine on my cheeks is supposedly soft and can’t be toyed

With, I found the paint in my nails spelling worry for my mother

She raised me mighty and collared accordingly. I’m supposed to

Have strong bones and this is how I learned that families are

Just pyramid schemes. May I fall, fast and quick, and in love.

Leandro

Item Tinkling in a customers-only toilet 

With a view of peeling promises and 

stickered dreams, nurturing new confidence

As you pass the stall keys to the next in line

Nada

Filed under things that might ruin me is an empty folder with

Your neighbor’s name on it. Can you please make sure that

They know how to sing before they get it. I have traded a lot

Of skinned knees for the decent adulthood I didn’t get. Let them

Know I am rooting for them and their devices.

Leandro

Dragonfruit claims its first cave lair

Yet to be filled with hoarded trophies 

And treasures, though brimming with 

Ambition and ready to face its first knight

Nada

One day I will have the appropriate amount of flavor

For your taste. For today, let me be shelved for later,

I will let you know when I learn how to throw

a party and catch a ball, I am saving all my teeth for when

you allow yourself to become the fairy. I’ll be sweet, I promise.

Leandro

Andalusian fantasies and a farmer’s 

Resting place, encased in soft blue of

Painted wooden shades, a kitten’s

Mewling and distant mirthful brays

Nada

A white worm connected to my phone. Surging with ideas

I will save for later, this is how I will defend you, with

Promo codes, tunic, and rock and roll. You will never need

To be double windowed again. You will need irony as a

Second shelter in case my words fail you. Bring a blanket,

Baby, it’s cold inside.

Leandro