Suddenly, I find myself collecting my past in fist-fulls
wondering why it was all so easy to forget;
how all these memories
managed to burrow beneath
my clumpy brain and remain there,
unharmed yet harmful.
I envy you
silly boy, and your consistent emptiness--
How is it that you are free from your past
while mine begs for forgiveness?

i hope you're happy

though i can't imagine you are
with a heart like that

you are a brilliant display
of the human condition

and the way i love you will
continue to evolve

the opal that embraces
my finger is coupled
by the delicate softness
of your lilac skin
and as i press into you
and pick your silky brain
i manage to uncover more
about myself—
how is it that you
connect my insecurities
and create constellations
out of them
displaying maps across
a milky twilight

I can remember the
shape of your  hand writing
like I remember the
feeling of your finger tips

allow me to
void myself of your traces
and remain as I was—

before I could remember