I think of you in colours that don't exist --
     that's not to say that I don't think of you at all,
          because, of course, technically every colour exists:
Even the ones we cannot imagine,
   Even the ones we cannot see.
Even the ones either side of the spectrum that light up the notes used for money, not music, because the notes used for money
   are
      not
         always
            real.
Even the ones either side of the spectrum that light up the heat of your body like your presence does the room
      and your eyes do my smile
           and your smile does my eyes;
You tell me that technically every colour exits,
   even if we cannot see it,
   even if we cannot imagine it –

For think of it now.
          Imagine in your head a colour that does not exist.
                    Now describe it to me.
Is it a splash of red with tints of a yellowy-blue?
Is it a pinky-purple hue,
    a hint of green, turquoise, maroon, sapphire, olive, violet?
Does it already exist in colours we already have names for,
      have we lived so long that every thought we think is no longer our own,
            every thought we think has been thought of before,
I think of you in colours that don’t exist
   but so has everyone else.

We cannot see it,
      we cannot imagine it.
But if we cannot imagine something that does not exist
   simply because we are confined to describing it
      in the words of an already existent language,
   what does that say about us?
We can imagine a waterfall of chocolate,
       a glass elevator bursting through the roof;
   shrinking potions and growing potions and talking rabbits.
We can imagine standing on the top of a building
      looking out over the greying city lights
            with lungs full of water
            a noose round our necks
            and the sole belief in our heads that we are jumping to fly
We can rewrite the future and make up the past
We can imagine wizards and witches and fairies and goblins
We have unicorns, ******* it,
     we have God.

And yet when I present to you a lover,
   an artist,
      standing in front of you now,
         yearning to make you his canvas,
You are too scared to fall in love,
              too scared to admit that you don’t have the words in your encapsulating little language to describe the things that you feel towards him.
For he does not need language,
   he does not need words.
He will stand here now,
   in front of you,
      and let you grace his collarbones with a diamond noose,
                          crown his withered corpse in a wreath of daisies,
                          dress his bones in slashes of rubies.
He will tear himself apart for you,
     for you,
     for you to watch galaxies flow out of his veins,
  velvet red blood screaming unwritten poetry,
  a torrent of unimagined colours pouring into him and out of him
          and with his one last remaining breath
              and a trembling hand,
he picks up his paintbrush
      and draws you into orbit,
  and like his fingers used to trace your shattered ribcage
    like the keys of an ivory piano,
he traces the outline of your lips.
And at last you draw breath,
         to whisper his name, to whisper your love, and all that remains
   is silence.
And you choke on the air and sound is still
         for all words exist so none can be spoken and suddenly everything
   is black.
And I think of you in colours that don’t exist
     like the wolf howls in lament of the side of the moon he will never see
          for all colours exist, and when I think of you,
there are none.

                                                      *-j.­s.

soft freckles try to hide as
auburn hair falls delicately
across her left cheek
I am captured by the moment
feelings of inadequacy boil up
and I try to convince myself
I am worth her love—
setting on the edge of the sofa
mindlessly eating a sandwich
part of me, lost in a daydream
desires to be the bread
if only to experience even more of her –
electric shock travels the length of my body
as her nimble fingers
rub across my knee
and a realization begins to take hold
twelve years in, and I still feel this way—
a single tear wells up in my right eye
and falls down, creating a spot on my jeans
signifying my lack of emotional control
when considering our love
and life together –

elegance and grace
forever personified
in delicate and absentminded movements
the soft features
of her Greek goddess face
carved from marble and polished perfection
smooth and supple
sending me staggering
her voice travels on rarified air currents
cast by endangered butterflies
but only when they flutter for love and procreation
never just the hunting and gathering wind…
sipping nectar through my eyes
the only foodstuffs which have the ability to sustain
laying cradled by her love
I feel safe, cocooned,
and forever hers –

Dear (insert name here),

The days I spent alone were the ones that brought me closer to you.
In those days I found that my heart longed for your presence,
and it took it's beats to serve for your living.
In many ways I wanted to never be alone forever,
and you gave me your fingers to wrap mine around.

I can't remember how long it took for me to let you in,
but I remember how hard it was,
for the shattered state you found me in,
was from leaving my heart on a sleeve for another;
those days were painful,
these days I smile again.

I wan't to say that everything I've ever done over the last few years,
from the day you ran head first into my heart,
I did only for you to feel like I was your everything.
But you kept reminding me,
that you had loved me even more when I was nothing.
And now that I am something whole again,
I want nothing more than for you to follow me,
to follow me into everything that we can be as one.

My dearest love,
in times when I want to let go of my beliefs,
I know you will be there to make me see my world,
and remind me of who I really am.
And in those days of nothingness,
when we lie next to each other,
I will breath life into your world,
as you have in the days when mine crumbled.

I can say I will love you forever,
but I won't because you already know.
So I will say that I can carry you in my soul forever,
even when death comes in it's own fashionable way,
I will carry you in me forever.

You will be nothing less than a seed I planted,
as if I were a child, in hopes that it would grow into a huge tree;
like my life with you,
I pray we will be family,
I pray we will be one in God's name.

I love you (insert name here),
and with your hand in mine,
I will always be one step above life in many ways,
and I want you to be above it all in so many ways more.

As I touched your soft hands It felt so right
To be sitting with you that cold cold night
I looked in your eyes and guess what I saw
A girl so beautiful who left me in awe
As the night pressed on, asleep you fell
As you slept in love I felt

she was a fierce girl:
her wild, red hair stood out among the rest
her hazel eyes sparkled despite the angsts.

she worked hard, refusing to sell herself,
even if his deadline was nearing.

(she promised him.)

her hope and naivety were smashed into pieces
as she slowly ran out of time.

(his time.)

without his knowledge,
she degraded herself.

("As long as it's for you, this pain doesn't hurt me.")

her health deteriorated
as his became better.

curled up in a corner, naked and bare,
she counted the money she earned.

and smiled.



he was a plain boy:
his brown hair wouldn't stay flat
his blue eyes, dull.

he thought of others before of himself
and that's why she fell in love.

(it was the same for him too.)

he collapsed one day,
pain spreading on his chest.

(he knew that that was it.)

he tried denying her support,
but her earnest eyes refused to let him.

("Laughing with you by my side—I'll be fine with just this.")

he slowly became better,
and he planned all sorts of trips for the both of them.

they'd go have a romantic dinner by the beach in summer,
they'd spend new year's cuddled up together, hot chocolate warming them up.

after his surgery, he searched for her—his heart, filled with gratitude
he never found her again.


the scar on his chest would never fade.