I know you like the back of our hands; I have you saved in the spaces between our fingers and have read your fortune in the lines of our palms. I know your transparent gestures and have found your eyes in my mirror, vacant only because our thoughts have built the cities we’ve been longing for. You sync the rise and fall of our chests and I’ve found your mind wrapped around mine, trapping us in the dark. Together we understand the current, wading through the fabric of space time. We have discovered us once again.

To me, you are no longer the idea of perfection, you are just another lost soul. I should have known.
I do not adore you as much as I adore my morning coffee anymore. Not a tad bit.
That is the unquestionable truth that you'll have no choice but to shove it down your ******* throat.

Dear Therese,

I don’t wear my glasses anymore.
Seems insignificant, right?
But I walk around this place
Unable to see beyond conversation-distance
And unwilling.

I don’t wear my glasses anymore
I don’t put in my contacts,
I just walk around, half blind.

And it might seem like a silly thing to write a poem about,
But

You’re not here.

I don’t wear my glasses
Because I know I won’t see you.
I know that if I search ten faces on the way by
Or a hundred
I will never find yours,
No matter what.
So...

I don’t wear my glasses
Anymore.

Love,
Me

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.