And we sat there
drinking cold beers
on a rainy front porch day
wondering how
there could be
so many good people
in such a sick
world.

Could you love her anyways?

I tried to trade love for freedom,
but ended up finding out
that they are one in the same.

What am I to do
With all of this love?
Should I glue it
To a kite
And let the wind take it
Out of the atmosphere
So it can look upon
This earth
As a whole?
Maybe I should
Tie it around
One of my front teeth
And show it to the world
When I smile
As the world smiles back.
Maybe I should leave
It in an empty ballroom,
let it dance its way around
And out the window
To salsa with the moon.
Or maybe I should leave it
Right where it is,
Between your lips
And what remains of me.

The universe is in motion
And it feels like love.

There was a butterfly
With one wing
That whispered in my ear.
It said,
“Don’t make anyone
Your everything
Because if they leave you
You’ll feel as though
You only have one wing,
Just like me,
And then
you’ll have to fly
In circles
For the rest of your life.”
I replied,
“She’s prettier
Than a blood moon,
And that would be
A gorgeous kind
Of pain.
I could fly
In circles around her
All day.”

When she calls you
With that song
Of a thousand songs
And suns,
Don’t be afraid.
Let yourself fall in love
And hold on tight
To the madness.

I don’t know
where it comes from.
It’s not like
a song from a bird,
or a baby from the womb.
It’s less like a bullet
from a gun  
and more like
the constant
breaking and mending
of the heart
as it exhales cold chains
and inhales
the fireworks
on her lips.
I don’t know
where it comes from.
I only know that
it is one of the only things
still worth fighting for.