You don't know where you are?
your former plans loom just like ghosts?
so, who cares? enjoy not knowing to the utmost.
Get lost in the sounds of things you don't know.
reminisce over memories you thought you'd lost in the undertow.
Get swept away in the possibilities, don't forget me, and i'll keep remembering.

I broke away, suddenly and on unsure wings
I stepped forward swiftly into darkness
Giving chase to brighter things
And even I can say that faith is a beautiful thing
Even if I don’t possess faith in the typical things.
Even if it is only a faith in the fragile space
That exist between our heartbeats
Where quiet locks are kept
And keys are exchanged ,
Where lovers each learn
To pronounce
another name.

I have been broken down by numbers
And the harsh realities time has uncovered
Things that remind you, That fragile things die
Like butterflies lose wings
to vindictive trees  
I have been stolen,
And I have been lost,
Bound in life’s ties,
I have failed under different eyes
But I’m divorcing self hate
For a real chance at our
first real date
And let me make this clear,
my love, my friend, my dear
it is faith in the parts of you I will never see
in the layers of love
transending your physical touch
that evades any tie to the end of my pen,
in the reverberating sound of your name in my brain
that I found this thing
that makes me brave
that keeps me sane
And it is in these things I found my faith
And it is faith that makes me believe in improbable things

I broke away, suddenly and on unsure wings
I stepped forward swiftly into darkness
Giving chase to brighter things
And even I can say that this faith is a beautiful thing
Even if It is not faith in the typical things.
Even if its faith in the fragile space
Between our pain
Where we share the stories of which we are made
Collaborative artists, stenciling words to fresh page ,
Where lovers each learn
To pronounce
another’s name.
I have faith that your eyes and
“I love you” both say the same thing.

We found it funny
that our shoes and shirts matched.

We heard people ask if we had planned it
and we told them we had not.

You also matched me shot for shot, until we lost the ability to count
and we decided it would be best to stop drinking.

In your bedroom I matched you kiss for kiss,
until our lips could not satisfy us anymore.

Breathe for breathe,
****** for ******,
moan for moan,
we matched and we matched and we matched
and nobody asked us if we had planned that.
If they did, we would have told them that we did not.

And now,
when people look at our lips
and necks
they will not need to know if we planned it,
because the matching of our hearts was planned
and perfected, and practiced.
Not by us,
yet we enjoy the rewards.