late night
campfire
soft moonlight,
then inspire:
poetry written
in the sand below
beauty-smitten
in seeing you glow

she dips her toes
into the sea of stars
                                       they sigh
soft    ahh             ahh
       ahh     ahh
              ahh           ahh's

reverberate into space
where they will condense
as raindrops
onto the earth

darling

you need to understand
that you are made
from the
  s
     e
        a
and the
   s
     t
       a
         r
           s

yet you compare yourself
to a
grain of sand
.

perhaps one day
instead of trying to find yourself
somewhere among
mountain trails blanketed by a winter snow
or hiking across a lifeless, scorching desert
you'll find yourself
in the dunes of my vertebrae
and the high cliffs of my laughter

perhaps one day
instead of seeking therapy
for your unnerving and infuriating anxiety
with a man who knows a whole lot of words
and a bottle full of numbing nothings
your hands will hold mine
and your heart will freeze in a way
no one ever said
could be
good

they keep telling me
I am a coward
for not believing in
an ineffable presence
for turning down the offer
of an eternal life

they keep telling me
that I am hubristic;
who am I to believe
god does not exist?
that I was made of
nothing
at all?

but still I do not understand
for does it not take courage
to leave behind all
rudimentary assumptions?

is it not the opposite of
hubris
to proclaim that we are
not special
we are
just
like
the
animals
that walk this earth with us
living
breathing
dying