when the wind blows south towards you, I send kisses to your third eye in lieu of my skin touching yours. I hope you see, that I wish to look at you in a way that makes you never think you'd live be better off alone. I still don't know why my vision blurred when you said you had never fallen in love.
maybe cause I thought you would love me.
when you described your type, I thought it was a letter for me, with the  "to:" form left blank.
I don't know what to think.

I love your hands, they are strong. I have traced all of the land snaking inside your palms. I love their size, and the way they make me feel. they have caught me, even with my flaws.
I think I hurt you.
but your hands do not answer me. they wander on my skin like the ravines on their joints. you have been around for so long. perhaps you are just a band-aid that I need to peel.
but there's so much stuck on to you.
I don't know what to do.

you kept coming and going whenever it was convenient.
you set a nomadic hut inside of my heart, you made it so intimate.
but what good is an empty tent?
you have a good heart. I don't want to fall inside your net, again. now you're back at camp.
you brought an empty envelope filled with irrelevant love notes.
I don't know what to tell you.

I love the static between our skin. I love when you breathe out, I breathe in. I love how eager you get.
you are helping teach me to trust again. I can show you so much.
I don't know if I should.

I have loved you for so long. you have given me the gift of your time, your smile. your kind words when I was in need. every time I try to give up on you, you only come back and catch me. you don't even try.
I'm in love with the taste of your name in my mouth.
I miss something that was never mine.
It's been so much time. you are still here: in my spirit, in my mind.
I don't know why.

I don't know what to feel.
I always know how to feel.

to be vulnerable
is to be fearless.
to accept the gift
of salty tears dripping
down your throat.

the twitch in your
lips when you speak
from the deep gates
inside of your mind.

i want to be fearless
i grow in it everyday.

i thought you liked
your girls fearless.
you love anne frank,
and you love malala,
you love the black sheep.
i thought you would like
me.

i thought once the gates
of my vulnerability swung
open, you'd keep going in.

you stopped and left
footprints trailing toward
the entryway. maybe it
was too scary for you to
explore?

sometimes i am
scared of it too.

never fall in love with a student.
especially the one that teaches herself
Portuguese, who's loved learning
chemistry since the age of thirteen.
but somewhere it made a reaction and
changed what it means, for she to be in
love.

atoms are mostly empty
space, so she really does think
that you have quite an
empty mind. she thinks you'd
take that the wrong way. she
never wants to hurt you, but
once you've made her mad,
she'll angrily yell it towards you
any day.

matter can not be
created or destroyed.
so the bones that support
your flesh, that she loves,
are made of the rust on
her grandmama's car, which hasn't
been driven since her love died.
they are made up of the dust
that formed the planets and the
Milky Way.

history has taught her what
happens when one person tries to
hold the universe in their hand.
she really is against war, but
she wants to, she's going to,
kiss and hold your hands
anyway.

but then she'll remember that
atoms are mostly empty space,
so she will never actually touch you
and you will never actually touch her.
you'll tell her that's sad to say.
to her it means no amount of folds put in
a map will make you two closer. there will
always be a distance. she will become
the guard of that space, and your solitude.
you are complete to her. she is a counterbalance.
she will learn to love the distance and curse it,
just like she hates school, but loves learning.

never fall in love with a student
who loves to learn you.
never fall in love with a student
(me).

you occupy a part
inside of my heart,
and i'm afraid that
it'll be permanent.

I say I need you,
because there are more
things I like than what
I need.

you run my mind.
maybe you are even
running inside me, from
your home in my heart
to flow in my veins.

maybe already,
you are permanent.

i cannot remember how your lips taste.
i can only remember they felt like
an uninvited guest trying to move in.
your lips and teeth are perfectly
made to **** on skin
so then you won't have to make lies with them.
but i let you in.
(maybe if i do what
he wants, no one will get hurt).

the tribe of my love,
has never been one to be
silenced by any lips but my own.
that should have been my
warning for a war cry.
but it was too late.

you were Columbus Day.
you came in as a new reality
and you left as a tragedy.
you put a knife to the strings
that held us together.

there is a spirit floating around
the ghost town of my heart
that is mourning the loss
of your name.

it is aching to hold on to
memories before the battle,
but is blind to see the bodies,
the bullets.

we have taken a knife,
and cut the strings that
held us together.


(for many people, Columbus Day only expresses the start of the damage introduced by imperialism, colonialism and the celebration of the birth of issues in North America, that still happen to plague us world wide)