i have learned to measure time
in wednesdays
in laughter
in the smiles we shared together
in midnight text messages
in chocolate chip cookies from Subway
and croquetas
i have learned to measure time
in poetry and coffee cups
in stories and hugs
in plays and words read
but mostly
i have learned to measure time
in the moments we’ve been together
in the moments i've felt loved
they say time flies
but like this, to me
time is infinite

i was born
with a heart too big to fit
inside my chest
and a soul bigger than my body
so i have chosen
to leave pieces of my heart
in the places my feet have known
in the people i have loved
in the words i have read
in the beauty my eyes have seen
and my soul-
i have scattered it like seeds
and i have left parts of it
in songs,
in poetry,
in the laughter of children,
in the arms that have held me
and the hearts that have loved me

when i'm with you
and you look at me
i know you see me
the way i have always seen myself
when i'm with you
i feel like i am every star in the sky
and when i'm with you
i feel infinite and more than what i am
i forget my feet because you give me wings
and i am not afraid to fly
when i am with you
you turn into rain and i turn into flowers

a friend asked me to write something like this.

if i ever told you
i loved you
i meant to say
‘thank you’
for not running away
for looking at me and choosing to stay
what i meant to say
was that
my heart has found a home inside yours
when i tell you i love you
what i mean is that
you are an ocean i am not afraid of drowning in
what i mean is that
i have never been afraid of being alone
but when i'm without you
loneliness tastes like bitter coffee
when i say i love you
i mean it.

there is no poetry today,
i said.
but today is the poem.
the laughter, the conversations,
the sharing of beauty,
the seconds that turn into moments
that turn into life
that turn into memories.
isn’t time the poetry of life?
isn't the feeling of not having enough words
to tell of the wonder of this day
worth more than a poem?
the seeking and the finding,
the making and the living:
this is the poetry hiding below our feet,
the music we long to sing.

Gaby Comprés Nov 26

when hands reach to touch you
may they reach for you
not hoping to find anything
but you
may they reach for you knowing
that you cannot fill empty spaces
and that you
do not have any empty spaces within you
may they reach for you
gently, in love,
with wonder at the wonder
that you are

inspired by Sarah Kay's 'The Type'.
Gaby Comprés Nov 26

i don’t want to write you a poem
i don’t want to leave behind
i don’t want them to know i loved you
i don’t want them to know how i loved you
because i loved you
like the night loves the light
and i loved you
like the earth loves the rain
i don’t want these words
to lead
but i don’t want these words anymore
so, i am sending this poem to you
without a return address
let these words just be words
let them only be that
this is not a love letter
this is not goodbye
(i already said that to you)

i did not write this for anyone, and none of it is true, but it was something i had fun writing.
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