Love: to be said but unspoken
A deep guttural influence over your mind’s endless power
A gift to be hermetically sealed, yet leaking lust whenever possible
A moment where fusion of energy is felt in broad daylight with no scientific explanation

A muddy sense of belonging and purpose that undulates entirely
Go on, give in.
It’s the call to the question that is answered with  “this is why you’re made”

Your smile creates a double with lips and lids, light and laughter
Can I ask you how this encompasses atheism?
You’re gorgeous and talented and our opposite beings just want the one thing that’s unexplainable  . . .
Once again, how doest that coincide with atheism? Question that.
But really, I can feel your truth and complete love

I just worry because you need to love yourself and believe
You can’t give it all to me.

For those days when there aren’t words to be said, because all I feel is “I miss you.”
We haven’t looked for definitions and I won’t start.
And for the times when in a veil of smoke I melt into a ring and live a hundred years in the cycle of consciousness through my twisted form.
Then you touch me and I’m free.
For those nights when the stars are closer to my thoughts then your mind could ever be,
But I don’t know how say that I love you anyway.

When she turned her gaze upon me,
I was a mote of dust
caught in a beam of sunlight
I was huge and beautiful
and bright.

I laughed and danced
and shone.

And when she turned away,
a cloud moved across the sun
and I was extinguished.

Showers of droplets
Break in sparks
On moonlit glass
Their wintery shine
Mirrored to a gaze
Spears of ice
Melting in the night
Trailing windows
With silver beads

Could it be that our blood boils
at the exact same hour?
That two ignited souls
do not fit in the same room?

Could it be that you're not my rib
and that's why you don't hurt me?
Could it be that we don't live life
the way we are supposed to?

And that's why I love you,
three or four times I
I love you

And you come
with a cosmos in the forehead,
with your dead ones on the back,
and between the legs
you wear
the most beautiful sunset

In one fist, stormy days,
in the other, balmy days,
In one, tears of chamomile
on the other, sweat and mint,
but in your saliva, sangria.
Sangria to maintain the blood cool.

Could it be that we are dust violated
by the slightest provocation?
Between lip and lip,
between ****** and ****** -
- I love you.

Four or five times I,
I love you.