from the moment i met you, i knew i would unlock my heart and invite you inside. something about your smile, the whimsy in your eyes, wild, dangerously curious. warm, waiting to whisk me away. you knocked me off my feet, plucked me from my path like a flower. you introduced me to the sun like an old friend.
                        when you lift your eyelids it’s as if you’re taking off my skin, exposing my soul, layer by layer. time awaits for you to look into my eyes so he can take a break. look at me, just look at me. look at me looking at you. i'll reflect your light for once, turn my windows into mirrors. the moment you brush my hand, touch my elbow, tap my shoulder, teacups stand still and my head’s the one spinning mad. be careful, hold still, or your every movement will send me to the moon, shattering my composure and sticking it back together in some form of awe. i’ve been there too many times already.
                       the sun rises in your irises. every morning. i swear it does, i’ve seen it. you blush when you unzip your heart too suddenly. you get shy when i take your photo and i know you don’t like it but you know it’s good for you. you see magic in everyone. you are gentle on my mind and ******* my heart. you are quick on your feet but clumsy when you're tired. you choose the dark side of the moon to explore so you can make your own light.  you hum under your breath when no one’s listening. you are so close with the sun, it burns you every time you meet. it burns you every single time. you’re slow to trust and quick to love. and it burns you. but you still love.
                       And if you are in love, you are the lucky one. respect is my upmost priority. her voice is why i hold my tongue. the way you look at her is why i hide my blush. the photos you take is why i hinder my breath. holding her hand is why i walk on the wrong side of the sidewalk, timing my steps so our fingers won’t brush. your love is why i’m afraid. petrified. it’s augustly love, love you deserve. and if you are happy, you are the lucky one. i wish nothing more for you. happiness for you. for you, i would demand the sea fit into a single bucket, wish the stars to rearrange their light to suit your perspective, ask the flowers to grow backward to grant spring a second chance. for you, i would fit my love into a friendship. i could turn the lightening in my veins into wind instead.
                      in the back of the taxi, after raising the sunset from the sand and racing the rain home, the moonlight in your hair, the breeze in mine, i told you about a love that was complicated. i wanted so to tell you the truth. and i almost did. it would have been easy. we were opening up together. it would have been so easy.
                        you’re the reason.
                       the reason i reply with a smile and not a kiss on my lips, i chase ghosts and not shadows, i slow dance alone, to the beat of a drunk-with-dreams heart. you are the reason i answer no, i pretend i don’t know. you are the reason i want to say yes.
                         when i knocked on your door beneath the stars, when i wore your coat like a hug, when we danced on the cliffs I carved, when i peeled back vulnerability and showed you my stitches and you didn't turn away but you caressed every single scar, when i asked for your name but really wanted to hear your story, i was searching for something more. so here, as i write, attempting to interpret my modern-art-piece of a heart, i ask only one thing in return for honesty: bring back the sun, paint the sky like you painted me smitten. i grew out of my old life, met you on an adventure. i’m on my way up, growing out of this pain. and while i have peace in where we reside, i hope part of you is okay hearing this, because part of me needed to say it before it was suddenly done.

                     here we are.
                     here we go.
                     letting go.

                     after all, there are other ways to meet the sun.

             sincerely,
             the moonlight

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you came to me
gently,
with the soothing voice
of a sweaty spring
thank you, old friend
for being able to be
dark enough to see
the hidden light
in me

i will not go into the times we shared
asphyxia and summer air
juxtaposed to form
an inseparable pair

who am I, old friend
when the ship´s horn blares
if you made me who I am
(if you made me scarce)

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you left me
softly, without
any warning of
the lack of color
(there would be)
without your splendor

when you just need to stare at the stars

and cry for the whole world

We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you
Heart.

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.