That night, it was scrawled in silver dust into the stars,
to brand our names into the sky.

That night, our story was written in the indelible ink of the gods,
and my favorite lipstick, and sealed with an immortal kiss.

That night, we came to life, with eyes that were able to tear
and hearts that could suddenly pump our lives' essence with renewed fervor.

That night, a romantic with an angel's smile
and a siren with a history of self- delusion became one, never to part.

That night, we fell in love.

You told me my smile told you everything
The depth of my dimples,
The squintyness of my eyes.
          
          It all told you everything
          It told you what I was thinking and feeling.
          It told you my desires and needs.
          It spoke things my words could not.
                    
                    It said simple things too.
                    How much sleep I had gotten
                    If I had watched the sunrise,
                    If I had chosen tea over coffee,
                    If I had read the newspaper.

And this is why -you said- this is why you hated
to see me anything but happy.

          Because when I wasn't happy,
          my smile told you I was faking it.

                   And you hated being lied to.

you had birds in your mouth and sunlight dripping from your eyelashes.
i promised i wouldn't speak if you wouldn't change faces twice an hour.
we made conversation under a tree and sleep-walked through your kitchen.
i couldn't stare for your poetry disguised as fingers, always moved your hands.

i opened your window and slid to the street, took a walk with the recycling.
my hands looked tired the next morning, and you wouldn't take no.
when the lights fell asleep, we ran for the boats and slipped into the water.
the moon smiled and pulled us apart, i never matched your shoes again.

She puts her hand in his back pocket.
I know they're going home together tonight.

She's about as predictable as a fortune cookie (everything always ends in bed.)
In three days she'll forget the whole thing. (I wish everything in life was that easy.)

Dear World,
I apologize
if this seems like a cheap attempt
at romanticizing
something that is
already dead.

but i must at least
try and put down
my feelings of joy and love
before they are all too quickly drowned
in the sea of bitterness
pain and hate.

I must first write
about how gentle
his kisses were
how strong and tender
his touch was,
how much love i saw
when i looked in his eyes.

(before i turn and call him,
devils spawn,
son of a gun
worthless good for nothing.)

I should mention
his words of love
his meaningful
promises
and how i needed
to believe him

(before i say out loud
how deceitful he was,
lying pond-****.)

I'll try to tell you,
how it felt to be
loved by him
and to love him back
how strong we were
how we both let this go

(before i dump the weight of guilt at his door,
and sum it all with its his fault)

i will say now and here,
how much I love him
still
and how much i miss him
and wish him well
and want him back.

(then for sure i will walk out tall
and proclaim my disenchantment
and wish a plague of a thousand years on him,
and tell the world i do not love him
and never will)

so world again forgive me,
for this confusion
that i add
to your foray of days
but i must.

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

When they stripped me of the life in my bones
I looked to the stars,
and plucked the moon from its perch
with my lips.
And the rage in their fists
tried to pry it from my skull.
But they cannot win.
They may look down on us with their
hollow eyes that can do nothing but weep,
and their hungry mouths that spit ash.
But I know what hope is.
And They don't.
No matter how many times I am beaten
I swear that the birds that sing in my chest
will always be louder than them.
Tell me what holy is,
and I will tell you of the love in my veins.
Tell me why you hate so much,
and I will tear it apart with my shame.
I will split the night open with my words.
I will sweep up the ashes with my rage.
They cannot win.
Not when your eyes look through me like that.
And while you sew together my wings,
tell me of the love letters that God left
on your windowsill.
Tell me of the fists that left those scars.
When they finally bring me to the gallows,
make sure that the noose is made
from the strings of guitars.
Carve my spine into the heart of a tree.
Spread my ashes over the lips of the sea.
Tell me what holy is.
And I will take you to that river full of sin.
I will write my poetry in the snow with my bones.
Tell me where Gabriel is.
And I will clean the blood from his crippled wings.
I will be an immovable sky.
The mouth of the river that never ceases to sing.
They'll separate us with razor wire,
but a few cuts won't hold me back.
They'll scream at us with their empty taboos.
But the paintings I've got tattooed on my ribs
aren't black and white like their words.
I'm done hiding my heartbeat.
I want to taste the words that come off my tongue,
to paint with the dirt beneath my nails.
Say my obituary was written like a poem.
So that when God greets me at his gates,
he will tell me that I was alive.
That I wasn't empty like Them.
But I'm tired.
And I've walked one too many miles in my
own shoes.
But it's impossible to stop,
when you've got wings flapping in your chest,
and a heart that burns like a lantern.
Remember me like this.
Spouting words from the darkest corners
of my soul.
Words that stick to you like a lover's kiss.
It's a song.
A manifesto.
An epitaph that will stay burned in your eyes
until you blink away the tears.
I'll keep walking if you just carry me
on your back for a few short steps.
A couple of shallow breaths.
Just let me rest.
So that the next words that come out of
my mouth will be “I love you”.
And you'll see that the bruises on my back
are the notes of music.
Tell me what holy is.
So I can tell you why I keep moving.
So I can spread these wings you've built for me,
with the skin I've shed
and my broken bones.
And I'll teach you how to fly too.
Because life has no rhythm
unless you give it a beat.
Tell me what holy is.
And remember
that we
are not.