the universe may be endless
and we may be specks floating in the void
unknown, unloved, unimportant.
but
fiddling with perspective,
we can frame ourselves
right at the beating heart of the cosmos.

you're like
sunshine through a bottle of honey.
like
the sunflowers i've planted at the side of the house.
like
my neighbor's bees.
like
that Van Gogh painting you have on a shirt.
& all i can do is try to cling to every moment,
to every little smile & every gym period we spend
behind the curtain.
because time is like the sun,
bleaching color over time.

back
behind the curtain
loom chromebook carts & dramatically stacked chairs.
everything looks precarious, somehow
the unneeded extras stacked beyond view.
we lay
sharing a long pillow.
close to the stage, so we can hear when the whistle blows.
& we lay close to each other.
i'm like a furnace,
we joke.
so warm-blooded.
how nice & good & easy it is to just be
happy.
here in this place full of unneeded extras.
the group of us,
giggling on the floor.

Jeffery,
if you're reading this,
(which you might be or you might not be
how am I supposed to know)
this is your sign to
LEAVE ME ALONE.
do not disturb.
these doors are lovingly closed to you.
goodbye.

dissecting the self for strangers;
an ugly kind of exhibition.
"too personal! too much!"
my inner self screams.
and yet it is something I need to do,
to purge these demons by commemorating them as art,
to make sure I remember to forget.

a soft exhale against my neck,
sitting in the car, alone together.
the light is warm, the day is cold.
when fall is gone, remember me
(please?)

crunching on the red leaves
your scarf slowly uncoiling like a cozy snake
from that place where your hair gradually turns into bare flesh.
i pick up the red knit wool, and run after you
into the first night of fall.