i hope the poem that rests on your tongue,
vibrant and lovely, speaks your truth.
and that this truth is all your own and knows
your love in its wholeness; anxiety, fright,
happiness included.

that the object of your desire, human
and beautiful, meets you where you rest,
and loves you with the same heat
and kindness that you deserve.

and that you grow from the experience
of wanting beyond your selfish heart,
into something that only wants the best
for another, for no reason
other than their happiness with
or without you.

i came back to see
the notifications
but you left a message
which made my day

I knew when your hand brushed my collar,

removing a thread,

and removing all doubt

Those eyes that stare
Share stories
That no words could tell
It’s in a gesture
In a slant of the shoulder
In the weight of a sigh

when the moment is tight
pause goes too long
feelings is awkward
do the gesture
show all the stupidity of being the human

letting it go too far over
whispering lines none too sober
deep into superficial radical concerns
but the comfort theme overall well stirred
fulfilling holes by plain symbolic gestures
miming intentions in meaningless false truths–

eyes on the pistol, the cure as a symbol.