little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

I imagine sitting in the corner of your studio apartment
A record playing faintly in the background and I can hear you humming
What if I told you I could remember what the weather was like for every single day we've spent together
How do you like your eggs? You ask
I could never take my eyes off you, not even if I went blind
You remind me of old books and tall glasses and dancing on the balcony
I imagine that we are in love, and then I wake up I am still am and you never were

There are days I don't have maps for
Days I stray from the path with no direction or destination
Moments where my mind wanders far from its assigned seat
I am not alone in this and I know it
We are mad, you and I
Our brains move effortlessly away from principal locations
We dance on burning coals because we think it will grant us a lighter step
We sing the songs our mother listened to because maybe she will come back just to sing along
We breathe in cigarette smoke to suffocate the dreams inside of us because surely, they are impossible to reach, just like your mother always said
There are days I don't have maps for
There are days where I don’t need them

There is nothing worse than being in love but having to leave anyways
Knowing that he is still waiting at the door, knowing that you will always be invited inside
But still, you never visit
Because moving away is not just a change of address
So don't make me ruin it by saying it out loud, just tell me you love me and wave goodbye
I cannot bear to hear the words so whisper them if you must
And I understand you think it is foolish of me leaving
You think perhaps love is greater than childhood dreams
But my plane is about to leave, the gate is closing
I'm sorry but I have to go

As a smile slips across your face I dance at the thought of someone like you loving me
Here's to all the hours I've spent picturing your cheek bones
To the days where you were the only medicine to cure this disease growing inside of me
Here's to the good times, to the smoke breaks, to the drunken dances in the kitchen
Here's to the vacuous words that made us bleed and to the gentle phrases that drew us forward
Here's to the boy with the green eyes on some days, to the boy with the blue eyes on other days
Here's to the early mornings and late nights
Here's to all the wonder you bring to the table
Being with you feels a lot like being a part of something or like belonging to something much bigger than myself
Being with you feels like falling asleep and waking up in the middle of the night knowing you have a few more hours till you've got to wake up
Or like opening a new book with fresh pages
Being with you feels like getting to know the side of me I never knew I had
Or like finding something that has been lost for years
And I understand love is not always easy in fact sometimes it is not fun at all but it lays and smolders at the core of all human happiness
Life can be as cruel as it is beautiful
Love isn't always magic sometimes it's just how they look at you in the mornings

I dreamt a slow river wrapped its arms around a mountain and you smiled at me for breakfast
Still, I can feel the warmth of your ambience slipping under my skin
As the sugar in your smile gets washed over by the sea
I am sipping coffee and sitting in awe of how you manage to be so brilliant
I want to live happily in a world I don't understand with you by my side to help me decipher it
When you are miles away you are more present than anything else next to me
I've read that wherever the road takes you depends on whose hand your holding and what music you are playing and you just happen to be my favorite song
This is the part of the story where we love without hesitation, without doubt
Here and now has never been more important
Coming home to you is the 8th wonder and I strive to see that kind of phenomena everyday
You are the story I'll read every time it's raining and I forgive you for whatever you'll do to me tomorrow
Love is simple when you don’t think about it too much, it's the little things all in all
It's breakfast on Sundays when it’s cold outside and he looks like the sunrise
It's walking in the fall with leaves watching you and he smells like hazelnut
It's the miracle of waking up next to him every day and cooking him breakfast, nothing more than that

I remember getting on the plane, remember packing my bags, leaving behind picture frames and old love letters, I remember closing the door behind me as he lay in the next room
I remember the distinct sound of the hinges hitting metal, seatbelt buckle clicking
The sound of my heels hitting the steps, walking upstairs to a new home
Thousands of miles away from him, I remember leaving
I remember sitting in a bar room, dimly lit with blue lights
I remember ordering my first drink and then my second and then my third
I do not remember ordering my fourth or my fifth
My bank account does however, the always brutal morning reminder when I didn’t have enough money to buy a black coffee
Lost love, I have found, will steal a lot of things from you
Comes in the night, creeping in, the thief of all thieves
Comes in the day time, and still with the light shining on his face, you are unaware
I remember the weeks that follow, sluggish and stagnant
By week four I had forgotten about the sound of hinges, seatbelts, zipping up suitcases
I have visited the same bar quite almost every night
I have started to collect memories of my fourth drink and my fifth
As my memory grew stronger in other places it weakened in important ones
I do not remember his taste, do not remember the color of his eyes
Green or blue, not brown not green not blue, maybe green, maybe blue
I do not remember breakfast, or lunch, dinner under blue lights
I remember the knocking on wood, my old green door vibrating
I had not known anyone in the city for so long that they would come to visit me
I remember standing, remember grabbing a jacket, remember the sound of a zipping it up
I remember the door swinging open
There he was, standing, very cold, pale, eyes a deep greenish blue
I remember getting on the plane
"I came to Boston to find you."
I remember packing my bags
"I knew you'd be here, you talked about it so much."
I remember closing the door behind me as he
"I'm sorry it took me so long."
I remember walking up stairs
I remember the blue lights
I remember standing very still, frozen in place like an ice sculpture
I invited him inside, I made him fresh coffee
I remember this
I remember this