Quick glances into the corner of his eye
Side smiles inspired by a fallen lullaby
We dance like lost souls on ice

Murmured hellos to a love that is only mine
Captured secrets that prance in the middle of time
Whispered footsteps that run to the rhythm of crime
We love with a heart that died

I want you to see me here
Waiting for you to realize my fear
So your lips will crawl so near
You love me, my dear.

There are all these secrets
shared among full rooms
and we are in one of them
quietly awaiting our own hearts.
You were young when I met you.
Full of breath
but now age comes fast
and the air in your lungs is less than half.
I loved you most in the morning
when the sun was rising and new
but I needed you more in the darkness
when all I knew I loved
faded with the time of day.

Here we are in the middle of it all.
And you lean into my heart
to whisper in my ear
"I love you most, my dear."

I write to you not knowing who you are. I think about you everyday. I am in my evening humanities lecture hall listening to Joaquín Rodrigo's Second Movement of Concierto Aranjuez and I can feel my soul unraveling. I don't believe it is a calling for me to be a poet, but I can feel its presence instilled in the very core of my being. Poetry pulling at the chords of my lungs, accelerating my heart beat, causing me to breathe unsteadily. I believe in you. Eleven minutes and fourteen seconds is more than I could ask for, yet it will never be enough. I will never stop wanting, desiring. You're out there somewhere. My words are yours.

warmth in cotton
bedsheets, comfort
in rough hands
the rain fell hard
and so did i
on those cold december nights
filled with electric humming
of something
or everything
content in
knowing
my heart is yours

there are treasures in your laugh, there are daisies in your soul, there are angels in your eyes, there are oceans in your heart,
there is me, in your memories,
there is you, in my dreams

i can't wait to come home to you