Have I ever told you about infinity?
I had never seen such a thing, not once
not even a glimpse or a reflection,
or a shadow. Not even a ghost.
Until one summer day, while on the bus
I finally saw it, infinity that is;
I saw it in the colour and the light
of a pair of sun-filled green eyes.
I saw it in the way those dark pupils,
contracted whenever light was upon.
I saw it in the way the irises moved,
seemingly changing colour and shape.
It reminded me of breathing, inhaling and
exhaling, and the light was the oxygen, and
the irises the diaphragm, moving in order
to let as much vital energy as possible.
As I moved closer to those round infinities
I felt, the vital energy they absorbed was mine,
it was in the way a galaxy was being born
from the clash of invisible light and green.
An endless number of swirls and turns,
an unimaginable number of movements,
the unexplainable intensification of colour,
it was the perfect symmetry of breathing
But it was was something incomprehinsble,
something that still seemed like a theory.
Infinity was so close but it was still too meek,
that was until, without warning, infinity saw me.
the amount of love amazes the seeker,
she loves more than he can,
and he gives more than she can take,
the love is endless in the heart of the ones loved,
yet not seen in the mind of others.
none relatable to the thoughts spinning around
with the battle in their stomach fighting to the death
they promise to be infinity.
maybe there's no such thing as always
and infinity is really just a mask
we wear forever on our faces
to hide the fear of time we lack
sometimes I'm not as hopeful
that there's really much more to this
when I keep perpetually falling
into a lonelier abyss
"I just don't know what I believe,"
I say with certain certainty.
© 2014 Kelly K All Rights Reserved
All the stars in your eyes
swarm like bees moving
in and out like a kaleidoscope
breathing colors, haunting me —
endless ghosts we don’t speak of
live in the corner of your smile.
I am an observer,
an astronomer and I map out
the constellations of how your
fingertips are always well within
reach of me, as if you’re unsure
of what you’re asking for.
I try to philosophize,
how inadequate all of this
has come to be, how hard
it is to focus when you take
a breath of laughter out of me
and I wonder why I stay.
It’s when you look away
that I can pull you apart.
Find more facets to find love in.
All the silver linings turn to gold.
You catch me, again.
And that’s when I’m sorry.
Sorry for staring.