i get myself dizzy
and remember why i fell in love
with your steadiness.

Fill in the blanks:

1. After months of sleeping next to you, today I woke up, rolled over to see your face, and was (      ).
a) in love
b) complete
c) nervous
d) alone
e) all of the above

2. I (      ) you because I (      ) you.
a) ****, love
b) love, ****

3. I (      ) you because I (      ) you.
a) lost, hurt
b) hurt, lost

4. Towards the end it was clear things weren't working out, but when I  (      ) you I still felt like (      ).
a) kissed, a school boy
b) resented, trying
c) came inside, a god
d) lost, ****
e) all of the above

5. It's devastating because I tried so hard (      ) I knew we were never going to work.
a) even though
b) until
c) after
d) because
e) to pretend

6. We had *** in (      ).
a) our apartments
b) our friends' apartments
c)  the Tonga Room
d) the workplace
e) misery

7. I was (      ), you were (      ), it was (      ).
a) in love, in love, amazing
b) trying, trying, trying
c) yours, yours, yours
d) trying, tired, over
e) real, real, real

8. You never let me (      ), you said it was private.
a) read your recipe book
b) see you ***
c) run with you
d) do yoga with you
e) get to know you

9. I wanted to (      ) you, you wanted to (      ) me.
a) love, love
b) ****, ****
c) possess, escape
d) marry, forget
e) all of the above

10.  When things were at their best we were always (      ).
a) laughing
b) together
c) *******
d) doomed
e) all of the above

don’t ask me if i could love you
don’t you see?
i not only could
but i do
i do so fearfully and honestly
if you asked me
how in this woven basket of a world
could i manage to rest beside you
and not wish to see
what lies beyond the wicker
i would have nothing to say except
that the air beneath this blanket
is plenty breathable
to me.

he leans in to kiss you. his lips graze yours, a careful brush, so close but not close enough, as the two of you breathe the same air. his breath is warm, his body is warm, everything about him is so warm when you feel so cold. next to him you feel like ice. and his touch melts your cool skin, and you’re melting, melting, gone. you’re kissing him, your chapped lips on fire. your baby is the sun and yes, you know this is going burn eventually. it burns already anyway. but you’d burn into ashes for him. you’d fade for him until there was none of you left.

his gaze leaves nothing of you. you burn until you smolder every time he looks your way. he’s older than you, and it’s almost like he’s lived so many centuries before this one. and he calls you “my love” and “baby boy” and he makes you feel soft even when you’re sweat drenched, even when your skin tastes like the ocean.

you’re on fire, but it’s alright. / there’s pain in this desire, but nothing’s felt more right.

icarus, your baby is a fire.
no.
your baby is a thousand fires.
your baby is a thousand fires,
and each one is so beautiful,
that you don’t mind
how heated
things are getting.

this love is tragic, dear icarus.  and although you know it’s going to **** you, or maybe even because you know it’s going to **** you, you can’t stop loving him, and the heat radiating from his skin.

there’s electricity spiking the air when your stormy eyes meet mine for the first time and it’s like suddenly everything is charged, magnetic, pulling my blood from my heart to the tip of my nose, an explosion of embarrassment and twitching hands, the jolt of feeling like falling just before you finally fall asleep. i’m seeing your mouth moving but all i can look at is your lips, the dart of your tongue, and pride swells like a tsunami high tide as i think about you, my nike, my victory, mentally running racetracks and hopping hurdles even though you never agreed to compete for anything. little eyes and big stars, stretching the space between us until we’re solar systems apart, our hearts destined for different galaxies. i always knew you weren’t meant for me but that doesn’t change the way it feels when you reach for me: we’re the calm before the storm, the way we always have been but we never should be.

i was riding through the city earlier
and i thought of you. thought maybe
if you were there,
we’d get off at the stop for the art museum.
we’d look at the paintings
and the sculptures
no, i wouldn’t be so cliched
as to say i would be too busy looking at you
to look at the art
because i would, of course,
look at the art.
it’s just that you would fit right in.

i thought maybe if you were there,
we’d get off at the stop for a place
we had never heard of
we’d walk until we found an ice cream shop
and you’d get two scoops of chocolate
and i’d pretend to judge you
because all sensible people get sherbet.
thought maybe we’d walk the sidewalk
and i’d point out all the dogs
and take pictures of you even though
you’d shield your face
thought maybe i’d pretend
i didn’t just try to hold your hand
thought maybe you’d pretend
you didn’t want me to.

i thought maybe if you were there,
we’d stay out until midnight
and admire the lights still on in the buildings
as if they were stars.
i thought maybe if you were there,
the city would bring out the quiet in us
the gentle liveliness
thought maybe you’d think
the sky was devoid of stars not because
of light pollution but because
they fell into my eyes
or something.
that’s what i’d think.

that’s what i thought maybe.
but you weren’t there.
so, lost in thought, i rode around
until it started to rain
and then wondered why i got wet
on the lonely walk home.

it’s 7:56.
i’m thinking about you
that’s pretty much what i do these days
think about things like
your laugh
the way you makes me feel
why i’m thinking about you again
things like that.
i think about you talking to me
in another room
away from everyone else.
i think about exactly what you said.
“i really appreciate how easy you are to get along with.”

and that was the moment.
i know
it seems like an odd thing to fall in love with
but so am i.

i think you about so hard
that i feel it in my chest
i dream about you while i’m awake
i think i’ve loved you for years.
it feels like i’ve been yours for decades.

it’s 7:57.

i’m typing this
as i’m waiting for you to get back
from the bathroom.
in the starbucks
cozy acoustic music is playing
and your mocha frappucino
half empty
is on the table in front of me.
your lips have touched the lid
and i don’t want to be
that person
but i wonder.
i wonder how it feels
does it know that it’s lucky.
can it tell me its secrets
how does it do that?
get you to open up
and let inside the warmth?
i’m not jealous.
just curious.

you should be back any second now.
you might walk out
back to our cliche little table
and ask me
what i’m doing
what i’m typing so furiously
what i’m so passionate about.
i will want to say you.
i love you
right here right now right time right place
i won’t though

maybe i’ll say
“i forgot to finish this paper
that’s due at 11:59 tonight”
or maybe i’ll say
“i just got an urgent email
about my political science class tomorrow”
or maybe i’ll say
“an old elementary school friend
just sent me a Facebook message
and i need to reply”

or.
or maybe i’ll say
“nothing.
nothing more important than our coffee.”
maybe i’ll just close my laptop
mid-sentence
because it’s true.

nothing is more importa

i imagine her
beautiful and weary
damaged in the ways
that allow her
to sink down into my soft places
and fill the puzzle-piece gap
someone else left her with.
i imagine her
lovely and flawed
striking a match in my chest
and starting a flame in my belly
a forest fire of disaster
and absolute perfection.
i imagine her
soft and destructive
disassembling me at her worst
caressing me at her best
i imagine her
lonely and strong
a being built from
i-don’t-give-a-damns
and let-me-help-yous
i imagine her
there
quiet and beaming
imagining what i might be like.
i imagine her
thinking i’m the beautiful mess
that i think her to be
i imagine us both being wrong.
i imagine that
being the best part
about it.

see you’ve been the sun for so long that i was finally getting rid of this chill in my bones but now i’m in the arctic and i never learned how to stay warm on my own and i’m scared and alone and i don’t know where i’m going all i know is that i want to get back home to where i can bask under your light on sandy beaches and we can look at the constellations once you set and i can tell you their stories, the myths, tucking these notes between your knuckles like these are the only words that will ever exist. i’m trying to remember that you’re more than a metaphor but it’s hard when i’ve spent so much time sitting in my own mind that i’m not sure if i’m anything but pretty words and old scars. you– you have always been everything that could only be encompassed by something else, like something billions of times bigger than either of us could ever be, that’s why you’re the sun in everything. it just sounds like ‘soulmate’ to me.