unspool and crystallize

the little random and spontaneous things

Category: poetry/prose


Fragments of memories
Are squeezed in between pages –

Good luck wishes with your curvy handwriting
The tiny flowers you picked
The balloon you drew on the box of your birth month-

And although it’s only been months,
They appear sepia toned to me.



Like constellations at night
You are a link, a connection, a chain
But like the scattered lights
You are just a speck of effort to sustain

Loneliness creeps into the blanket of indigo
So you wait for the sun to ablaze the day
To replace what the moon cannot bestow
The scintillation you wish to play

But when the sun gleams
You are inconspicuous
Invisible in the vast white stream
Yet still conscious

So as reserved as you may be
As you claim your limit to a sparkle
You are a glow to me
Forever  star I would marvel

Solace in Solitude

Doors are shut closed
But the chains are not enough
Unlocked stealthily by intruders;
I’m masked with smiles
They see me, yet they don’t

To them it’s nothing,
To me, it’s something
When I say ‘no’, they seem to hear ‘yes’
When I flash red, they speed off with the green

So I walk alone
But never too alone, but never through the crowd
Alone with my thoughts, alone in my world
To find solace in solitude.


Our every day hallway split ups at 2:15 PM
The Fridays when I close the gate
The split second glance I take when I leave your car
The ocean between us during Christmas
And the nights when I close my eyes

You are the first to make it so hard to let out a “goodbye” from my mouth.


raindrops sprinkle the leaves overhead,
and stream the asphalt with puddles.
they playfully slide down your umbrella
and throw careful splashes away from me.

I stole a glance, and saw your left shoulder drenched. 


“And so the grasses, they grow- oblivious to your departure. I sprinkle water over the pots and yet they wither.”


“Nice one!” I say.

You raise your hand and I smile.

I reply back with a high-five.

It was a loud clap  that lasted for a  second

but you held onto my hand a split second longer.


It was a round bush
With tiny violets
They were fragile
But I found them pretty

I wanted one
And keep it between pages
You said you’d pick me the prettiest violet
And so you did

Now it’s in chapter twenty-seven
What were the violets called? Never found out.
So how exactly do I recall?
By allowing my thoughts to touch you

They were violets
And they were fragile.


He scattered specks of glitters

Across her obscured hemisphere.

He hung a crescent illumination-

A sliver of his dawn.

She fell off track of her orbit

As he defied gravity.

Now everything is unfathomable yet

i m p e c c a b l e.


You make me exponentially happy but I get scared at where this is going.