I want to feel the beat of your heart on mine
Watching shows about people we’ve never known
And though we never will, they make us laugh all the same
Hoping and laughing and feeling
Searching screens and sound waves trying to reach beyond here
That liminal space between being and nothing
We press in and press together
Warmth unbidden but welcome
I support your head with my shoulder
And you support my heart with your soul

I am barefoot on shattered glass,

Bleeding from the shards stuck in my feet.

I reach out to you,
Who will never meet me,
Who will never know me.

I spit blood
From the holes
Where the teeth,
I spat out,
After taking,
The punch,
That put me,
On the ground,
Used to be.

I try to push myself up,
To my feet.
I reach out to you,

Though, I will never know you,
I will never meet you.

I brace myself again,
Ready for the impact.

Dead on my feet,
Entombed in myself.

I can’t carry on.
I must carry on.

I pick the shards from my soles,
Fit my teeth into ****** holes,

I know that I will never meet you,
I will never know you.

The tears like rain,
Water fallow ground,
As I reach out again,

To you,

Who will never know my name,

As your name dies,

On my bruised and ****** lips.

If galaxies were a mood,
I’d probably be Andromeda,
On my way to collide with
The Milky Way traveling at
68 miles a second.
That’s 244,800 miles an hour.
I feel like I’m treading water,
Moving nowhere in an empty space.
Too fast, too slow, no, still too fast,
Moving, but not moving fast enough.
I am the world’s slowest collision course,
And it’ll still take 4 billion years,
To get where I'm going.

It is the wind that upsets pages
Spills them on the floor
Both personal and impersonal

It is the spark blown from the fireplace
That catches and spreads
Unwelcome destruction

It inks itself through typeface
And bleeds through paper
Wet with rain

Until the tears dry
The fire abates
Wind settles
Ceases

Still

And I remember the sound of your name

You are stars in the evening sky,
Beautiful and radiant.
They make up your body,
The fabric of my universe,
Dipping and encompassing.
You do not alter,
But look on tempests,
Unshakeable.
You are all these things,
Fixed, constant, and true.
No man ever loved,
As I have - and will love you.

I’ve heard it said that John Donne once claimed no man is an island.
Perhaps he’s right.
Though, I feel like an isolated star,
Billions of light years away, and
My light is the left hand of darkness.

I am connected in a constellation and a void,
Through visual and spatial networks of association.
I am contradictory states of being,
Dissociated, isolated, and whole.

I supernova, I collapse, and I birth anew.
I can’t feel the heat from your sun,
Yet, I can see the light that you emanate.
No star is a constellation, and yes, no man is an island.

It all flows together,
Like pools of water,
The ones I step between in the parking lot.
Like paint dripping from a canvas -
Indistinct and coagulated,
A beautiful mess in the liminal spaces.
It pools in the tray of the easel,
Falling on the drop cloth, and on the floor.
My thoughts are scattered nothings,
Dropping from a paint stick absentmindedly.
I am indistinct,
Not what I ought to be.
I am a clover field without daisies,
A cup without a drink,
A ghost in a long hallway,
A body without a soul.
I am a paintbrush without paint.
I am nothing but the potential I can't fulfill.

Sable seasons and unfit dreams
Call out to me in the night
Speak to me like old friends
Loose-fitting and callow
A thought unburdened
Bids itself unwelcome
To fertile earth untilled
And your voice reaches me
From years beyond memory
Unconscious and unbidden
A wound not yet healed
Unconscionable, it changed me
A photograph, a ghost
And I dissolve unremarkable
I dissolve unchangeable
Into the sky

I feel like the sound of summer thunder,
The thrum and rumble and force.
Like the crash of waves on rock.

I feel like the heat from a fire,
Burning and writhing and roiling,
The sun on an August day.

I feel like a stray bolt of lightning.
Like copper, electrical and manic.
The smell of ozone as an aftermath.

I feel like no words can describe,
I feel empty, I feel full, I feel tired.
So, I feel like the sound of summer thunder.