abstraction.

 abstraction

a beautiful obscurement 

of something all too real



ulises vargas

february 15, 2026.



please

start

stop

hide

Nacido Por Nada. 

Ulises Vargas 

October 8, 2025.


¿Dónde me tienen encarcelado? 


Porque estoy aquí, 

¿Sin ningún lugar 

Para ser feliz? 


Todo se ve novel,

Pero todos modos

Quiero salir 

A encontrar a esa cosa 

Que me puede encantar 


Mis papás 

Son nada no mas 


Nací sin ser contento 

Y cada día me recuerda 

Que estoy solo 

Siempre 


Quiero salir, 

Pero nadie me entretiene;

Ni me hacen caso

Cuando lloro 

Entonces, pa’que lo hago


Ya se 

Que quiero morir 

Y que nada aquí 

Me podría hacer feliz 


Pero no se a las palabras 

Para decir 

Que me saquen de aquí 

Porfa 


Porfa 


Porfa


Merced

Propiedad de Gobierno. 

Ulises Vargas 

October 8, 2025. 


Hace años 

Y sigo aqui, 

El mismo que ayer;

Lo mismo de mañana 


Tengo escuela, 

Y luego voy pa la casa

Y, si puedo, 

Me duermo 

Para repetirlo 

Otra vez mas 


Voy aprendiendo 

Mis académicos 

Y es todo 


Nunca me han querido 

Los amigos que no tengo 


La comida 

No me gusta 


El tele 

Me entretiene 

Todo el día;

Toda la noche 


Y el gobierno 

Tomó a mi mami 


No se 

A donde se fue 

Pero ya no se ve 


Mi pa tampoco:

El se fue con ella 

Y siempre trabaja 

Para la casa;

La comida;

Solo unas monedas


Mi hermano

Me cuida,

Lo mas que puede 


Y yo 

Sigo aquí,

Bloqueando le al dolor 

De no ver a mi mami 


¿Donde se fue?


¿Porque la llevaron

A mi mami?


No quiero despiértame 

Si, el próximo día, 

Sigo aquí 


Mami 


Te extraño 


Me fui contigo,

Mami

Your Tears Are Pretty. 

Ulises Vargas 

October 8, 2025. 


From your eyes, 

Down your cheeks, 

And onto my lips, 

I see you’re dying 


What a pretty little thing 


Tell me 

About your abuse 


Show me 

Deep scars,

Fresh and old 


I’m here for you, 

Just until I leave;

Until I’m bored of you 


I’ll kiss your cuts 

As if I care, 

But you know 

Deep down 

That I pretend 


All your love 

And affection 

Is mine for the taking 


I’m not sure

What you see in me 

But it’s crazy 

How delusional 

A hug can make you 


Your father 

Was never really there


He left you rife

With despair 


But I am not him:

I am worse


I could never love you;

Only claim to care for you 


I don’t know 

Everyone else 

So mastering you 

Is my specialty


I’ll rub your back,

Just like he used to;

Whisper melodies, 

Like you dream of hearing


Be present, with me 

Forget the world:

It’s all me 


How pretty, 

Your tears shed


How tightly, 

You grip me


Let it all out, 


Then let me in 


I’ll seem perfect 

Until I’m bored of you 


Or just until 

You cry again 


Then, I’ll fuck you 


Fuck you

Snorts Like Slashes. 

Ulises Vargas

October 8, 2025. 


Why bother 

With the bore 

Of dreary days 

Or poor souls 


I’ve heard tell:

That lack of purpose

Has a cure


The meaning of life 

Lies right here: 

In my nose,

Then in my blood 


Take the void

And fill it with noise;


Make the hole, 

Feel full of joy 


I didn’t know love

Could cost so little 


I don’t need people 

To be happy


I just need money 

And for everyone 

To lay off of me 


You’re intruding 

On my me-time


Limbo 


Why can’t I just be normal

And smile along, 

Just like the other kids?


Why’d it take substances

To fake it;

To finally get it?


Sure, I use,

But I’m happier than ever 


And I’ll take 

Any opportunity 

To make my existence 

Feel any more believable 


I know now: 

True friends and family 

Lie at the end 

Of a dollar bill 


Leave me alone 

With my own party 


I don’t need your pity 

Or the problems you bring


I’ve never felt so understood 

As I do now,

Nor so awakened

To the frivolous things

I droned through


I wasn’t myself 

Until we met;

Until I forced 

Some sense of personality 

Out of this limp body


Bring me life 

And don’t ever, ever

Leave me 


But even withdrawal 

Is preferable 

To the silent dreading


Let me love 

The harm 

In every dose

Sugalicious. 

Ulises Vargas

October 8, 2025. 


Susceptible followers

Malleable dimwits  

Drones to be controlled

Fans, all of them


See my smile;

Goggle at my style 

Tell God

That you wish you were me


It’s too easy;

Don’t tire yourself 

Seeking flaws 

In my vogue 


Feel the struggle 

Of coexisting 

Against my shine 


Every word 

Is poetic


Each move 

Is designed 

To make you jealous 


I never leave the stage:

I only lend it


When they all scream, 

You’ll hear my name:


Sugalicious 


My character 

Is purposely ethereal; 

Is who makes a celebrity 

Among nobodies 


I don’t follow 

Your norms 

Or any inkling 

You may have of me 


Dance the border

Between mortal, 

And reality;


Balance the favor 

Of pitiful rats 

With passive eyes;

We all will watch 

As they follow like puppies


Know that

Your life starts 

And stops 

With my presence 


Worthless, puny

Inferior


When you hear my steps, 

Bow 

Then take your slaps 

And thank me 


Make yourself 

In my image 


There is no you, or us:

Only Sugalicious

Brilliant Flames.

Ulises Vargas

October 8, 2025. 


Well, 

It all boiled down 

To this


Where do I begin,

With nothing left? 


I never meant 

To get caught 

Or to let karma 

Catch up


Those stolen moments 

Seemed worthwhile 

For a time 


I think I hoped 

To die 

Before accepting my place 

In the boring, numb reality 


Yet, 

Here I am;

At the crash 

At the end of it all 


Nobody 

Stayed all the way 


On my bed, 

I lay doped-up 

On despair 


My whole future 

Is gone 


Everything I built 

Has fallen 


And the one to blame 

Is too busy,

Lost in himself 


Kill me 


Make it stop 


I just want it to stop 


When did the voices 

Get so loud?


They taunt my existence 


Shut them up 


I can’t stand it 


It was all my doing 

And I know the solution 


Silence, now


Sleep is here

To make it all better 


Hush, baby bird


I will smother you

The Insecure Taint and Demand Love. 

Ulises Vargas 

October 25, 2025. 


Give up your life to share it with another 

Only to end up lesser than before 

Romantic unions between two people 

Is the worst deal for those intertwined 


No longer is any day sovereign 

Wanting to be alone, or individual, 

Is a rejection of the insecure partner 

Refusing to sacrifice is interpreted strongly:

Selfish, lying, manipulative for not giving in;

For not giving all in spite of yourself


Smiling at someone else seals your fate:

Cheating scum; community mouth 

You fail by acknowledging others,

In the eyes of the unloved and insecure 

Yet, no amount of validation 

Could negate a million thoughts of inadequacy 


You had a past; you existed before meeting them, 

And that works infinitely against you 

Where have those lips been?

Why aren’t you a virgin? 

Why might they still cross your mind?

Do you think of going back to them? 

They fear you miss someone who’s not them


Of course, these are double-standards: 

They can have all the friends they want;

Forget about you all day until they need something;

Endlessly criticize and secretly hate you 

Responsibility is discriminatory and one-sided 


They like a genre, so you love it, too 

They hate someone, so you despise them, too

They like to kiss, so you kiss them all over

They want sex, so you try to please them 

You will never be what they want, 

Or else you are no longer you 


Any amount of protest is uncalled for and cruel 

They say they love you, so why do you think otherwise?

What have they ever done wrong to hurt you? 

When were they ever problematic? 

Damn you, and take responsibility for once 

Damn you, and stop asking for so much 

Aren’t you needy for caring about yourself? 

They could care less about you, 

Especially if you speak up, brat 


They love to hate you 

You hate to love them 

Quite the predicament 

There’s no winning with them, without losing yourself 

In the rare moments in which each of you agree, 

The deal feels mutual and profitable 

Those moments cloud your judgment, whence they fade 

You loved who they were, and confuse that for who they are 

You loved someone who is gone 

You miss those glimpses of a beautiful lover 


Every moment then-on is spent in cycles of grief, 

Missing those glimpses and seeking them out once more 

The tragedy comes if you catch another glimpse of false hope 

To chase endlessly, renewed in vigor, without ever finding them again 

Your lover knows how to keep you tangled 

Your lover is abusive

Your lover is dead


Sooner or later, someone has enough and you separate 

Their memory defines and taints future prospects 

They have hardened your heart to be more like them 

They formed your idea of love 

Then, when you find someone new, 

The cycle repeats, though the roles are redefined 

Will you abuse or be abused? 

Will you love or hate? 

Will you be an individual, or a servant? 

Will you ever learn your lesson?


Poor, poor puppy

You think bites are kisses 

You think kisses are bites 

Hopeless 

Hopeless romantic

You Are My Toy. 

Ulises Vargas

October 8, 2025. 


I see

Everything 

On your mask 

And under your skin 


I hear the pain 

With desperation 

In your poorly veiled cries 


Nothing but a character, 

Unwrapped with words;

Fragile to the touch 


You can’t hide


I see you 


No one, 

Like me, 

Has ever loved you 

So obviously 

Or understood you 

So easily 


It’s true, 

It has to be 


I’m your ticket 

To happiness 


All your dreams 

Lay in my hands 


There is no God 

Greater than me


I could nurse you, 

The real person 


Or I could break you, 

The fun toy 


Either way, 

There is no forgetting me 

And the damage I bring 


You could’ve died 

Of your own accord, 

If not for me

Ever being in your life 


I hope;

I know you’ll miss me 


Go on, 

Entertain me 

By drawing blood 

In memory of yours truly 


Stay miserable, 

With or without me: 

But your life 

Is not yours 


What a gullible thing;

Who could ever

Play my character 

And not break you?


There is no person 

In that body of yours:

Only an instrument 

Of muscles, 

Trauma, 

And heartstrings 


Sing for me,

My puppet;

Entertain me: 

You are my toy

Please me in your cage. 

Ulises Vargas

October 23, 2025.


Dance, doll

Dance to please your god 

Be the slut you once swore off 

Do what you once thought unthinkable 

Be my good girl 


Fear my fist but crave my touch 

Do what you know I like 

Do what my hands have conditioned in you 

Dance for me, animal


Hope that your dancing will win me over 

To touch your fragile body and excite you 

Rather than tempt yet another beating 

I am your god, and you serve me 


Slave to satisfy me 

Reject everyone; everything, to satisfy me

Do my bidding; anything to satisfy me 

Learn to read my demands before I speak 

Dumb doll; you are mine 

There is no you but property 


Others might think that they can change you 

But they are not me, and I am constant 

They cannot decide for you to be independent 

Unless you come to believe that you can escape 

Until then, I will wither your will,

Beating every drop of self out of you 

Silly, silly doll 

I make you move 

Until you come alive, into free agency 


You need me for you to live as is 

You need my constant control 

Otherwise, who else will control you?

You are too weak to go off on your own 

And, should you try, 

I will beat you again whenever you come back 

Incendiary Soulmates.

Ulises Vargas 

December 23, 2025. 


Times change, 

and time flies. 


I couldn’t change, 

only tell lies. 


Fires tied us 

by the throats.


Meanwhile, 

I grew worse. 


We had to breakup. 

Then, fire burns out—mostly.


You bore the burden,

being my wife.


I may never apologize, 

and always stop you 

from ever moving on. 


I hope you’ll remember me 

like I remember you. 

So I’ll seek evidence 

by retraumatizing you. 


So long as you still mean something to me, 

then I better still mean something to you. 

I can’t be the only one suffering;

You will join me, too.


I’m dying in a world without you. 

I have, I am, and I will.

Join me, sweetheart. 

You’re a cruel bitch now. 


Die here with me, sweetheart, 

because its either our fires both burn all out 

or we burn bright together. 

But living as embers 

won’t do for me;

no—never, honey. 


We were—and are still—

lovers. 

We share, and burn bright, 

this love of ours. 

Your world is none without me, baby. 

Whether we’re both alive or if we’re both dead, 

we burn together;

in hot smoke, 

or in cold ashes. 


You shaped me, sugar;

showed me something different. 


You meant meant something to me, 

so I better still mean something to you. 


Join me, sweetheart;

Die here with me, sweetheart:

whether in hot smoke, 

or in cold ashes.

the point.

Ulises Vargas

October 11, 2025. 


I wake up, 

Move around for some hours, 

Then fall asleep


It’s been like this 

Since forever;

Since I could remember, 

As a child,

And, I think, 

As a baby 


I wake up, 

Move around, 

Then fall asleep 


Only a margin of error

Marks the difference 

Between yesterday, 

Today, 

And tomorrow 


Sometimes, there’s an upset, 

Or an excite, 

Or it can be both 

Those times are the most life 

I want to live for those times 


Instead, I end up living 

For the same thing 

All day 

Everyday 


I wake, 

Move around, 

Then sleep 


Some people 

Make the day go by faster

Some others 

Slow the sun down 

But those who can do both 

Make the day theirs 


I like those people 

They’re fun

But, I like everyone 

At some point 

Yesterday, 

Today, 

And/or tomorrow


I’ll find someone 

Who fulfills or manipulates

The mood of the moment, 

Depending on the marginal error 

I seek, or feel, that second 

And then, 


I wake,

Move around, 

Sleep


I’ll try to fill the seconds 

With something;

Something, at least,

To fulfill, or manipulate


Small and short activities 

Keep the mind busy;

Occupied with anything

Anything at all 


I like to think 

There’s a purpose to it all;

That, at the end of the day, 

I’ve made something worthwhile 

But, instead, everyday,

I only realize 

That all I’ve made 

Is a day 


I wake, 

Move, 

Sleep


And when I stop,

For just a moment, 

I might question 

The meaning of it all 

Those are dark days 


Doesn’t my life 

Depend on others

Who depend on me? 


Is life a closed-loop

Of activity?

Of ailments and aid?

Of production and consumption?

Of living for others, 

And of others living for me? 


Where do I fit in 

If everything is so subjective 

And all purpose 

Is hopelessly arbitrary? 


As a cog in society, 

I feel the constant agony 

Of being a part of the churning 

But I’m not the only one stuck 

In frivolity;

In trying to adventure;

In finding fruitless escapes;

In only trying to make 

The journey any less pointless


Wake, 

Move, 

Sleep


Hope not to notice 

The ticking hand of time 

As another day comes closer 

And you realize 

Today was a waste 


Hope someone else 

Swoops in 

To give the day color 

But, they never come 

Or, they never stay 

And, at the end of it all, 

You’re still stuck with yourself 

And nothing has changed

From yesterday;

Today;

Tomorrow

It’s all the same 


Wake;

Move;

Sleep


Even being unconscious 

Is as good as the opposite 

None of it matters;

None of it makes a difference

Time passes either way 

But this apish brain continues 

Imprisoning something inside 

Something…

Someone?


wake;

move;

sleep


it all stops running 

at some point


existence ceases to exist 

time no longer drags 


it all led up to this point 


this point was the point 


too late now to realize 


if only one knew in life 


in existence 


in the pointlessness before the point 


sleep;

sleep;

sleep

A pity, and dreadfully stubborn. 

Ulises Vargas 

November 27, 2025.


Is there a set number of experiences which one person can live in a lifetime—

a universal and set holding of experiences for everyone?

No, of course not. Some people experience more than others:

they take life as a challenge to play, explore, and discover. 


Then, there’s some people with age, but without appropriate experience.

Experience is not equal; not every lifetime lives as much life: 

One person’s two months of experiences, development, and activity 

is another’s three days full of adventure. 


How pitiful, those who live once a week and not at all. 

How pitiful, when they become envious of the ambitious superstar, 

wishing that they could trade lives. 

How pitiful, when they die and leave behind only a short memoir

at a lone and quiet funeral. 


Yet, still more pitiful, 

is how they chose to live that way

and then died that way. 


Was this the best that they could do? 

Since the beginning, had they no chance to live—

to live like a superstar? 

No, of course not. They had choices to make.


They had opportunities to try—try anything at all. 

They left the ambition to others, as if hypothesizing themselves

that any experiment—whatever novelty it be—

is too gruesome, too impossible, and too fruitless.  


They were no fun. 

They wasted their opportunities, 

and didn’t bother making more for themselves. 


Grieve their shelled existence 

with little to no words,

except that their whole story 

is a cautionary tale against caution.

To your knees, pony. 

Ulises Vargas 

November 30, 2025. 


Where’s the limit, whence I should let go of the throttle?

The speed is thrilling.
The acceleration is exciting. 

I don’t want this ride to end. 


If I start to let go, then tomorrow won’t be as fast as possible.

If I fully let go, then the thrill drops and the climax is defined. 

It’s downhill from there. 


I’ll keep pushing the throttle, enough to maintain but gain speed. 

I don’t want this ride to end. 

The acceleration is exciting.  

The speed is thrilling. 

The drive is intoxicating 

and I’m in command. 


There could be a cliff ahead, 

but never close enough to discourage me. 

Keep it up, pony. 

Don’t let up not one bit. 

This is my playtime, pony. 

Don’t let up not one bit. 

Don’t bite back or kick me off. 

This is my playtime, pony. 

Keep it up, pony. 


Did I say stop?

Your legs are crumbling? 

Keep on, little ecstasy. 

I say when we stop. 

I say when we’re done. 

I say my last words 

when my pony is dead. 

I say when we stop;

This is is my playtime, pony:

Keep it up, pony. 

Corazón de nutrir. 

Ulises Vargas 

21 de diciembre de 2025. 


Sola una mujer 

tiene el mejore corazon, 

y también es la mamá más fuerte 

como sus abuelas nunca fueron. 


Quiere lo mejor pa todos, 

y por eso ella aguanta la tormenta. 

Sabe d’amar. 

Sabe a su familia. 


De buena corazon, 

ya asi yo tambien trato 

de querer lo mejor pa todos. 


Es mi ma 

la que tiene el corazón puro. 

Es mi ma

la más fuerte en la tormenta.

Star. 

Ulises Vargas 

February 14, 2025.


I won’t stagger over nothing;

won’t stutter for nobody. 

Can’t shake me down;

Can’t size me up. 


Real upper-echelon:

your bummy friends 

don’t see how we do it here. 


Some designer dresses me, 

and some god possesses me. 

Some girl despises me, 

but her friends desire me. 


Dazzling ice everywhere; 

dancing eyes lost in the sight. 


Stylish. 

Elegant.

Drowning. 


Heaven-sent, 

and god wept. 


Not a man, but a master–

making plays like Oscarly actors. 


Here in theory, 

but I seem off in another galaxy. 


Take and they miss. 

Make hits like swish. 


A life you don’t know; 

A life you need. 


Come here. 

I know you want to. 


If you haven’t already, 

then you can fall for me now–

fall for my stardom. 


Wish upon the shooting star, 

and maybe I’ll align the night

so you may be a star, too. 


You used to dream of me, 

then dreamed when you met me. 


Wouldn't you like 

to live in a dream, too? 


Come here. 

I know you want to. 


Bite the apple. 

Savor its thirsted sweetness.  


A star. 

More gracious than it all. 

Not even galaxies apart  

would your light ever 

shine brighter than mine.

Dried Portraits. 

Ulises Vargas 

January 26, 2026. 


Today’s soulmate 

is not today’s wife. 


Today’s crush 

is tomorrow’s filth. 


Till disillusionment  

do us part. 


To that gorgeous muse of mine,

I painted you nicely last night—

all warm and tender—

and I etched the most calligraphic sign. 


To that same bitch monster:

you wasted my time. 

I spent hours lost— 

so lost—

in your portrait. 


So many hours deluded, 

believing your beauty epitomous. 

So many hours encapsulated 

in the enamored picture 

sat in the disgraced shadows 

of my mind’s gallery. 


To that muse subsequent:

you are no different. 

I am no different. 


Pose, and stay still. 

This won’t take long. 

Shine that smile for me. 


That’s it. 

Just like that. 


You are my everything. 

You are my magnum opus. 


Aren’t you so pretty? 

Aren’t you so easy? 


Well, that’s that. 

Wasn’t that fun? 


I think I loved you—

I think. 


No more need be said. 


Get out.

Mujer del momento. 

Ulises Vargas

22 de diciembre de 2025. 


Debo de dejarte

o al menos decirte la verdad 

de que tengo múltiples mujeres 

y que no te voy a dar 

el mundo de imagen;

no esa casa, ni tampoco la vida casada. 

Mejor en tus suenos

nos arreglamos eternos. 


Destraeado. 

Ojos mirándole al otro lado. 

Te destrato. 

Luchas conmigo 

pero nada va a resultar. 

Madrazo. 

Preguntaste si te amo, 

y no sé cómo responder. 


Mujer del momento,

hazme reír. 

Memorias de mientos, 

hazme feliz. 

Mujer d’eterno, 

ojalá que te encuentro.

This Love Is Scary and Unfamiliar.

Ulises Vargas

October 2, 2025.


If there’s one repellent I’ve found most effective 

It’d be the terrible “L” word and flowers 

When someone else loving yourself 

Must be insane 

To love that which you yourself do not love


Is this not what you wanted? 

Have you not chased an unconditional love

Down the dirty alleys and in a broken home 

Hoping to find this love 

That is peaceful and pure?


Was my heart too heavy 

For you to hold; 

My embrace, too comforting 

For you to trust? 


Run, run away

I can’t make you stay 

Because I won’t abuse you 

No matter how badly you want me to 


I love you, but you’re not healthy 

One day, you’ll escape the delusions 

And recognize true love 

Or maybe the next will hit you 

And their fist won’t be as scary 

As the “L” word and flowers

Give Me Your Blessing To Leave You. 

Ulises Vargas

November 2, 2025. 


Never, has someone been so right for me 

Yet, never, could we work out romantically 

No one approves of us together 

Not one person knows how we feel for another 

Nothing is in our favor, except for each other 

And what good is that? 


Mountains won’t move for us;

People won’t change to accept us; 

Thinking of you just isn’t enough 

I can’t love an imaginary lover as a spouse 

Those things I dream of are but dreams 

I’ve forgotten the feel of your lips:

I don’t know if I want to forget, or not;

To resign and fold, or to believe in fantasies 


I love you, and I might never stop 

Neither choice is easy to make

Please, make it easy for us 

Please, don’t fight too much 

Give me your blessing to leave you 

Please, my love, I know how badly it hurts 

Please, my love, don’t remind me of what I’m asking 

Give me your blessing to leave you 


I don’t want it to end like this,

Though I see no other option 

I wanted to die alongside you, 

Not solely with the thought of you;

Though, tell me, my love:

How realistic is it that we’d make it all that way? 

How real are our fantasies, versus hard lines? 


I can’t hold your hand, because I know I’ll miss it 

I won’t look you in the eye, because my love will miss me 

I’ll never forget the times we shared together 

I won’t get more attached to a doomed love 

I can’t let myself fall deeper for a cruel dream 

I still love you, and I wish it wasn’t so 

Darling, this is against my will 

Please, make it easy for us 

Give me your blessing to leave you

Mi preciosa, ¿cómo decirte?

Ulises Vargas

26 de noviembre de 2025.

Bebe, es complicado desnudar

las máquinas de la obsesión

que ni los poemas escriben bien;

la imagen de ti jalándome de la mano

a destino, a feliz, al cielo,

que me trae ahí mismo en sus brazos.


El problema es que tanto la quiero.

No puedo andar sin ella.

No puedo ser el mejor si se va.

No puedo seguir sin su mano jalándome.

No corre el corazón sin sentirle a ella.


Ojalá que son ciertos y santos,

su amor y su mano.

Ojalá que me libren del mal,

su amor y su mano.


¿Cómo le puedo dar el mundo

si ella es el mundo mismo?

Ojalá que yo sea su mundo también.


Nadie puede entender

lo que siento por ti.

Nadie sabe el amor

como tú y yo.


Mi preciosa, eres todo.

Mi preciosa, mereces todo.

Mi preciosa, te quiero.

Two Made One.

Ulises Vargas

October 16, 2025.


Within my one 

Has spanned many lifetimes,

Of which many were wasted:

Those void of a perfectly imperfect beauty;

A strongly fragile and fragily strong will;

Victoriously manic, then dreadfully dysphoric;

Loving of everything through understanding of it all;

Accepting of me for all flaws, 

Being generous enough to share of herself 


She and the world are mutually whole

She and I give and take all 

To reap the fruits of good and bad 

As two souls made one, 

Hands held, traversing heaven on Earth 

Perfectly imperfect, and extravagant in appreciation 

For the fractals of niches where we collide 

Amidst the backdrop of a wondrous limbo,

Who places responsibility in us beholders 

To make the most of it all 

But how strenuously burdens the task 

Alone, without a mate to sing in chorus 

Or with which to shift realities and once personal weights 

Compatible consciousnesses, rich with constructive differences 

While fraught with common identities, 

Form two parts of the triangle 

Where self meets the physical

And self links with the perfectly imperfect mate 


Many lifetimes, indeed, which I searched for her, 

Waving hope then submission,
As misfits fell in, only to break out of, my triangle,

Such that, whenever I encountered her, 

I was traumatized from everyone who conned her place 

Until we embraced in that fateful, mutual bond 

To fulfill all which had been taken from us;

To bear burdens as one;

To cheer and cry; laugh and scream;

Push and pull; push, push; pull, pull,

All with the force of two made one;

Joined harmonious and discord at once 

Not one note sang right

Without her at side and in mind;

Many lifetimes, indeed, dragged ugly and empty 

Without her at side and in mind


Giddy with ecstasy, the thought and realization of her 

Dumbfoundedly enamoured at every image and glimpse of her 

Lightning courses my veins at the slightest touch of her 

She is near, says my body, pretend no longer 

Drop everything: there is only here and now 

Hold her dearly, then kiss her all over

Let no beast creep, prowl, or pounce on her 

She is a feast of warmth like no other walking corpse 

She is all there is, and yet the scene glimmers with her 

She is more than everything, but isn’t it all more vivid with her?

Run, idiot; run, to meet her once more 

Nothing could be more right than to feel her 

As two made one

Anxiety captures the moment void of her,

Consequently robbing all peace which only she treats 

Without her, there is no me 

I fear I am imperfect, 

Without her, there is no me 

Yet, she sees, perhaps more clearly, that there does lie a love within 

We are perfectly imperfect 


Night and day drain all which I am,

Just until she can replenish what existence steals; 

Just until I can hold her tight against my chest, 

Feeling our heartbeats synchronize;

Breathing of, and for, each other,

Making all the strain of days past

Condense into one wave, together, 

Of breathing, fully and deep

Their hate has no place here 

Only room enough for the two of us 

Two made one,

Feeling;

Breathing 

Sanctuary, in each other 

Garden of Us 


Never, has she fallen asleep so easily 

As she does in my arms to the sound of my voice 

A hugging cuddle while one hand caresses her head;

The other, rhythmic in rubbing her back

A periodic kiss placed on her forehead

Eventually unsure of her sleep or wake, 

I’ll close my eyes, too, 

So as not to disturb the sweet beauty 

Of my love so comfortable and warm 

I wonder what she’s dreaming 

And head to join her in that surreal space 

Only to dream, again, that she is in my arms 

What a wonderful little dream;

How grateful, I am, that it’s true 


In blooming flowers, she lives 

In the unspoiled baby bunny, she lives 

The L'oeuvre craves to exhibit her 

Heartful singers sing of her 

I see the sun’s rays cast, and wonder if she makes it shine 

I feel the cold of moon’s night, and hope she’s content 


You are enough

You make it all worth it 

You are the sweetest thing I never could’ve imagined 

You fit everything I lacked, and I, you 

Darling, my dear, my honey 

Let's be perfectly imperfect, together 

Two made one

I love you, my love 

You are my heaven on Earth, my love

To my love,


So long; I’ve waited so long to see you again. 

It could’ve been anywhere, and it wouldn’t matter 

so long as I was with you again:

with my heart held close 

in my hands hugged around you. 


I don’t know where today might lead us, 

after restless seasons of loving from afar. 

A restless heartbeat, hoping to reconnect with you. 

Every moment until now, I realize, 

was spent trying to get back to you. 


All of these other people–who aren’t you–

they make me feel so alone.  

It’s been so long that I’ve felt so alone 

surrounded by actors, and having to act, too. 


My love, I’ve missed you so much. 

I lay down, and I can’t help myself 

but to hug myself to sleep 

because my love isn’t there to comfort me. 


Ma chérie, je t’aime très fort.  

Mon amour, je t’étrange. 

Tu es l’unique pour moi. 


Pensé en ti cada día que te falte. 

Pensé en morir sin verte.  

Cante todas las canciones, 

bendiciéndole que tú me podrías escuchar 

desde donde andabas, lejos de mí. 

Eres la única para mí.

 

Qué tanto que te quiero, mi amor; 

mon amour; 

my love. 


Without you, 

I can’t be whole. 

I know life’s been cruel to you, 

but, to me, you are my life

and I couldn’t live mine 

without yours; 

your whole life

is my whole life, 

my love. 


As an ode 

to the girl I love most, 

Ulises Vargas


Top Poems of the Year.

No Good For Me.

Frosted Cocaine.

One hundred selves.