I like to run my fingers over the bridge of your nose
That bridge leads to your home
And I'm at the door
I'm more in love with you than I know how to say
How to write
How to love you without limits
You are a joy
You are one hundred joys
Swimming in my chest
Rocks skipping on a pond
You are birds singing on rays of sunlight
You are a meal cooked by mom
And my life is full with you in it
Like the seeds in the center of sunflowers
Fish in an aquarium
Children out at recess
You are so much fun
An endless discovery
One hundred joys
Swimming in my chest
a divine kind of unrest
My body spells I love you
I love you
written mid-January 2017
me, a tiny moth
and i don't know which light is the right one
i'm not the person i knew
or the person i want to me
i feel like a blueprint folded into origami
and i don't know how to be useful
i've been taking magazine clippings
like little bits of stolen wool
i've been keeping them in a book
making pictures of the parts
and i don't know where my heart is
i don't know what i want from the bulb
i am so tired, but so not tired.
i have grown tired of it.
i am walking away from sharpness
sliding into an embrace
there's no time for hardness
i dreamt i was a sunflower of forgiveness
i'm following my dreams
i'm bending cliches
i don't give a ****
i am so tired, but so not tired
i am ready
im running back to you
away from it
remember rest comes.
chew over the words we scrambled like eggs
messy in the pan
and sticky like feelings we named with firecrackers
in the winter the sun moves slower
i think my eyes think like grandmothers
a hazy hindsight
reading in a dim light
find a vase and break it
make a collage with its pieces
stain the knees of your jeans
i'm looking at a star
i'm looking for truth
i'm holding onto the hand thats holding on to you
i love you
i love him more
i love you
and he loves you more
there are three sounds filling my ear
you hear two
there are five circles 'round your head
you know one
you are so much all inside this figure
this figure that dances-waltzes
in attentive carelessness
teach me how-
how to hear just the beat and your breath
down- helicopter chopping my composure
up- your hand leading my hip, your finger lifting my chin
up- eyes steady on each other
down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up.
you've always called me a better dancer,
maybe the better dancer would know it's all about the moment
you live there so well
show me how to not be swept up by worries- what might be.
teach me not to get my toes in a tangle
guide me by those even breaths...
*down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up. down.
from balconies the color of butter,
i write apology letters stained in leaky love
on paper wrappers of water drinking glasses
the pen marks are light
all the lines run over.
I am watching myself
from two years prior,
trying to find a minute to break the ice
and break it to myself
that i have missed some of the points
and some of priorities have been placed out of order
like all the letters
until there is one less tile,
and one less hello,
one more goodbye
and two more
'i don't knows'
i'm stopping the signal for a little while,
there are eight peaches rolling down a hill
and i've been watching for the cross walk
where almost all of them are stopped
(in the inside show of children
they pick them up like baseballs
and they laugh so full
thunder couldn't shake them,
they climbed so high
the balconies made friends with them.)
we are drawing circles in the sand
trying to make sense of the birds that flutter in our heads.
like those sandbox cities we used to live in,
we are all fine grained
and we all jump rope,
hoping to jump just high enough,
hoping to laugh,
freely in the company of swinging ponytails,
eager like the boy to just learned how to snap.
show me all the stones you hold in your hand,
tell me the stories that come with them.
let's chase hummingbirds;
let's run slowly.
wind 'round this back line dirt trail.
out of illusion,
hum with me.
i like the messy songs we make-
hide these folded letters in your socks.
we could run on words,
we could run on words.