in•tel•lect*
/'in(t)l, ekt/
noun
“the faculty of reasoning and understanding objectively, especially with regard to abstract or academic matters.”
the human mind
is such an utterly remarkable thing.
100 billion neurons
firing
inside your skull.
axons and dendrites,
azaleas and daisies
the tide, and the shore
and every breaking
wave
of
grey matter
that they'll ask you to share.
but if you keep it to yourself,
my God, you'll dissolve
into the nothingness of mist
and explode into a perfect array
of agony
and disappear, like
sparks
in the night.
“I know what it's like,” he said.
“What?” she whispered,
looking to him sharply
“I know what it's like,”
his haunted eyes glistened
in the darkness,
“to be afraid of your own mind.”
…

Between red dust
and Ponderosa pines
and the rains that smelled of your skin
Between the darkness
of various rooms
that we all once have sat in
Between blue skies
and cloudy days
and the times the Sun has shone
I wonder if there
was any way
anyone could have ever known

Known of the words
that we would speak
in the depths of our July
Known of the secrets
that we would keep
in lieu of telling a lie

But love is a color we can't comprehend
a sound we cannot hear
though forever will I try
To know and understand its hue
its melody, however obscure
for you,
always for you.

I realize now,
after years of delay
after numberless nights
spent with
the vastness
we call
space
That lovers see
in only shades of grey.
There is no black and white.
every right, every wrong
every agreement, every argument
is never wholly so.

there are only what if's
and has been's
and only what will be's

and being loved
and being in love
are rarely the same thing.

They say that love is patient.
I suppose this is true, as demonstrated
by the Moon's love
for the Sky.
Have you ever watched her closely,
the Sky?
Watched the way
she colors
as the Sun kisses her goodnight?
I imagine sunsets like intense goodbyes,
like the height of the Sky's passion
with her radiant lover,
the Sun
and as the Sun leaves her,
she lapses into the deepest darkness
grieving
for the Sun has left her alone once more.
The night is her sadness, her emptiness, and the Sky
falls
into darkness.
But before she hits the ground,
one who adores her entirely
glides in
to catch her
in his arms- and this lover
is the Moon.
And the Moon illuminates her cheeks with a quiet light
so she
is not consumed
by the darkness,
and he holds her sweetly
through the night,
telling her stories among the stars
until she falls asleep,
and he stays with her throughout the darkest hours of the night.
But then, the Sun decides he misses the Sky
so he returns.
And she awakens to his light,
leaving the Moon forgotten,
and the Sky and the Sun
perform their celestial dance
all day long,
but the Moon just waits.
For he knows the Sun will leave her to her misery again,
and he knows

he knows
that love is patient.