Enough ******* Diary entries about you being an air person and use it

Write the poems

There's something I love about things that don't think so hard about existence
They just go because somewhere in them they know that hearts have been pumping and cells have been dividing and scattering around to heal whatever hurts and nuerotransmitters have been connecting your brain and your body for thousands and thousands of years
& all these things know a lot more than us
They keep doing their thing and they know you and you are happy for you.

My bed is beautiful and kind
Most things are kind
They want to be kind

The trees don't chose specifics to whom they give their oxygen

The trees are kind and I love them

I understand how at a time people would pray to these trees

That might not have been the worst of times

I wonder if I would have been one of them

I wish to be taken to the time in which my human mind and soul would be less confused

Where the dimensions match up

Because I love everything here and I just don't know how to know that all the time

I'm so tried
I wouldn't be so tired if my body lost it's shape & I became apart of something not so solid
Not so definite

Where I don't have a mouth to trip over the chopped up reasons why

I dedicated my session to you today. I thought maybe this was a safe space for me to think about you w/o potentially risking psychological damage.
I thought about your big warm kisses hitting my lips and how I'd feel the sun create a blanket around me when I slouched into your arms and how you face might touch my face w yours as it curves over just to make me feel the slightest bit more apart of you. With your body you told me I was the best thing that ever happened to you. There was so much white light. In my head you told me to sleep. You would be there in the morning and all through the night. Our bodies would would feel light, almost like there is nothing in them. Almost like we don't exist
The next day you carried me out to the kitchen and sat me down on the counter and let me pick out whatever cereal I wanted, which I don't usually eat cereal but this is where it took me.
And I wanted you to see this.
I tried to get my insides to show you so I got them as close as I could to you w only the neurons in my brain and I asked you to "feel me" and I kept saying that over and over and over again. And maybe you did. Maybe for a split second it got there. I couldn't help but think of the time when I answered the phone to your distraught voice and later you told me that you asked me to wake up w your focus.

She said the number 217 came up in her head
I knew you always liked the number 17.

Let no one dull your light

Today I was the most whimsical yet elegant harp of a lady and he was a warm ocean tide crashing in on anything solid 

And we played together whilst I sang choppy bits of the best opera I knew right there on his chest