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 Oct 2017
i’ve been thinking a lot
about your hand in mine
the way that our fingers
and palms intertwine

but i think about death
about loss, about worth
i admit that i fear
to return to the earth

where our bodies dissolve
into roots of a tree
and will grow into trunk
then limb, then leaf

but i've heard from a bird
that death will reverse
and your heart will beat hard
like it did at your birth

so hold on for dear life
with your hand in mine
if death makes us let go
it is only for time

© Mike Mortensen
 Oct 2016
a m a n d a
you never gave me
not one
single thing,

except yourself.
and it was always
 May 2016
When you look into the mirror, do you not see the newborn stars behind your eyes?
Do you not feel the weight of your own ancient gaze?
My, oh, my.
When I kiss you, I taste pine. I taste forests I have never seen, I taste water so cold that my teeth ache.
The forest floor fills my lungs with sweet, safe decay.
Sweet and safe. In your arms, I am safe.
I am a shipwreck and you are the ocean floor. You are vast and it is here, among your shifting sands, that I rest, that I find peace.
You smell of the happy parts of my childhood.
“Honey, I'm home.”
“Baby girl.”
“You are a gift.”
You are a gift.
I'm sorry that I'm crying again. I'm sorry that I don't know when I will stop.
Am I tangible at night? I hope to never become a cloud in front of you. I hope to never float away.
I know that I will stay.
You are a gift.
When I kiss you, I am swimming. The water is cool, the water is clear, the water is deep.
I do not fear that I might drown.
Your hands could mend mountains.
Your hands.
Strong, but so careful, so kind.
Your hands could salvage seas.
Your hands.
You glow with the misty light of dreams.
You radiate light.
You radiate light.
You radiate light.
It pours from your eyes.
From your heart.
Do you not see the stardust that falls from your skin?
A walking nebula.
And I am your newborn star.
Your shipwreck.
Your river.
I am yours, simply and truly.
Glass people dance in the deserts.
Warmth fills the air around them.
I think of these glass people when I miss you.
I think of their freedom.
I think of your eyes.
The newborn stars.
You. A walking nebula, and you don't even know it. You don't even know it.
I look for you all the time. It's silly, and irrational. But I do.
I look for you everywhere.
When I kiss you, I taste molten rock. I taste heat and debris and controlled chaos. Beautiful restraint.
I taste time in the form of an hourglass. Sand.
But not clocks. Never clocks.
You are a gift.
I look for you everywhere.
Your hands.
Your hands are cellists, my heart is your cello.
A walking nebula, and you don't even know it.
You don't even know it.
 Jan 2016
Staring across the bar, it was love at first sight
- eyes so wide- I think I gave her a fright
She thought it was a *** look
thought she could read me like a textbook
wary of my advance
refusing me a chance
avoiding my glance
I put down my glass
in a stance
weakened by my lovestruck trance,
simply asked for a dance
 Oct 2014
Sam Knaus
They say that human eyes
can hold galaxies,
Maybe that explains why
every time I look into yours,
I feel infinite.
Like there’s no star
I couldn’t reach.
 Oct 2014
A Whitney
Paint me a painting
to vex Van Gogh,
My fondness then shall grow.

Sing me a song
to smite Streisand,
My love for you will be so grand.

Compose me a masterpiece
to blow away Bach,
Then my heart you will unlock.

Write me a sonnet
to shame Shakespeare,
Tell me now, am I asking too much dear?
just a single rose would capture my heart
 Oct 2014
Savannah Jane
dont mind me
but i am waiting
waiting for you
to say 
that i am 
not the one
just the only one
for right now
but i know i wont be
because why pick 
a dandelion
when there are roses
all around you
begging to be picked 
so they can die
just to be admired by 
someone like you.

— The End —