There's a red thread
woven between us,
tethering us
to one another

The voice of high
heavens ring
in an unfamiliar
ear, telling me
to stay right here.

In this transient life,
all there is
is right now
in another life,
we may get it right
until then,
we lay here our bodies
strewn upon the ethers

my first love was literature:

my first skipped heartbeat belonged to lazy afternoons
when i skimmed my hands over the surface of an open book,
all surface tension, skipping stones and soaring -
i could not get enough.

next was my fluttering stomach, from tempest-tossed evenings
when fiction and a flashlight were my friends
where i read of silver mountains and dreamt of golden seas -
(the best books always followed me in dreams.)

and last, my first hitched breath, stolen from moon-still nights
when i drummed my fingers across the printed words
to soak them in like moss does fresh-fallen rain -
and that was when i knew that i had fallen

deeply, irrevocably in love.

you're a haze of ninety-nine cents dreams,
naivety bottled in your distressed jeans
and your ******-inspired bambi teardrop eyes;
and i'm the devil behind why you've cried

your mouth chokes with fury and rage
'so why are you still here?' i ask again
but secretly, i know you and your obsession
-the glory tales of getting heartbroken

you know i'm pure poison flowing in your veins,
a disaster functioning on self-hatred and novacane,
but you're wild violet and champagne in a sweet kiss,
desperate to be inundated into my abyss.

i would do anything
to have your lips stutter my name
let your words grasp my hand
watch your eyes search for mine.

to wait for you is impossible yet divine
when we exist in places
so far from where we are destined.

we are parallel lines

i would do anything
for us to be a painting instead
i'd color you in hues of unrequited love
and put us on a frame
i'll give it to you and say

'keep it. keep us. keep me'

'why'

'because we are so much more than just parallel lines'