the sky's pulse at dawn
with hungry birds navigating
the veins
of an endless cloudy sea
all pastel and dreary
the enveloping stillness
arouses the senses
awakens the spirit
and in the diffused light
I let go

although our paths may never cross
I belong to you
and I don't feel the lonely wicked cold
like I used to
because I know you are out there
somewhere, stranger
haze-gazing
just like me
trudging along the best you can
filling some voids
where you see fit
with a heart that overflows
and understands
although our paths may never cross
you've helped me, stranger
and we are the same
throwing stars in the void
finding joy
in the empty space
of our days

do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.