Notes written in
the clavicle of the soul /
unknown to most,
spoken softly over a sunset.
Scattered across
the city /
these words
murmur the truth /
the lilac confession
of kisses. . .
how can I say it?

i am just as fearful /
a ***** staring
up at the barrel of a gun /
eyes wide, tail tucked
if I tell you,
would you run?

words spill /
like the water running
down this stream.
oh, what bright eyes /
you have!
you’re a fox like me.

more than fearful /
gaze averted,
aloof alliteration.
i nuzzle you /
kiss you lilac /
a curious fondness
of these/three words.
[ redacted ]

sunrise, all soft /
like a curtain of sorbet.
watching your ears
perk up,
i notice how far
the fence is.
wait! you’re over there /
you nod and look my way.

just jump over,
I suggest.
A thought /
autumn in your heart /
you write your own
lilac confession
and slip through,
curling up next to me.

next to me /
i sense your fear
like the hunter
stalking in the dark /
I must confess,
we are one in the same / and
I will hold your heart gently.

we’re safe here.
the hunter has passed /
reading these words in the
maroon and ember of fall /
to each other.

simply,
I must confess . . .
I adore you
and perhaps love you.
may I kneel and
worship you?

In passing /
In the streets of artists
and excess /
He’s the ink
dripping down the
c a n v a s /
mirroring the
beauty of her oddity /
the oddity, her soul
appearing after
the darkest waters /
rising up to meet
the warmth /
of the Sun /
eternal, ephemeral
tides of the heart
crashing upon the canvas!
the music reverberating
in our ears /

I stand at the edge of everything.
I have stood here for a while now,
contemplating the change.
If I look down, all I see is an abyss of water.
The waves crash and churn, but I too, am made of the sea.

I decide. I tell you,
I am yours.
Will you take this offer?

It’s not a long way down.
Oh, the water is actually deep.

You scoop me up in your arms. You’re warm.

I’m surprised. You came with me.

You shake your head. You tell me you were already there, waiting for me. Already mine. Decided.

But how?

You wrap yourself around me, radiating heat. You tell me that I’m the author. I know how it ends.

Together I’m the edge; you’re the sea.

how particular
you organize yourself /
shoes by the door
and flannels on the hanger /
you let me in
moment by memory /
heart trusts
by the milliseconds /
time is infinite
not where but when /
wrap me up
in your arms /
if you ask,
i’ll stay here forever /
let me rest my head
on your chest /
your heart races under my chin
and i think i know what i want /
yet i falter each time
clearing my throat for a pause /
if you feel the same,
speak what I stutter

I’ve put these thoughts in a box—
Wait. They’re feelings, not thoughts.
Anyways, here.
[hands you the box, hands shaking]
Thought you’d want to know.
[averts gaze to the floor]
Nice shoes.
I’d stutter if I spoke.

Speaking these syllables,
I slip und stumble trying to
find a word to express
the interest (the sum of our love).
Waiting I wonder what
the weather (partly cloudy with sunshine)
of our hearts become.
Touch your hand upon my soul,
tugging the energe[tic] time /
timing turns and twist of lips.
Loving you would listen
to the love you felt even when
hands fumbled
voice cracked
notes from the past
crumbled up in your pocket
telling you this is how it should
but this is not the same.
this reaches across
farther than what you compre-
hand in yours,
love me still.