he was brown
i was blue
like the earth that the water flows through

he was soft
i was hard
like sand being sliced with a sharp ice shard

he stomped
i glided
like when muddy cliff and rain drops collided

he was solid
i was shaking
like rocks over which the river was breaking

he was brown
i was blue
if only i could like him too

i have never found a four leaf clover

but i have seen many bugs
and given many hugs
and now the sun is licking my skin
and into the grass I'm sinking in
there's a flower to my right
and colorful things in my sight

and this life is a lovely layover

this life is a lovely layover

colorful things in my sight
there's a flower to my right
and into the grass I'm sinking in
and now the sun is licking my skin
i have given many hugs
and i have seen many bugs

i have never found a four leaf clover

i have never found a four leaf clover

and i have seen many bugs
i have given many hugs
and now the sun is licking my skin
and into the grass I'm sinking in
there's a flower to my right
colorful things in my sight

this life is a lovely layover

I am floating and in my eyes and my mind and the leaves of a tree there are hands,
because hands are all we have,
because creation is all we are,
because everything spirals outward in the hand of our hands,
because fingers are too long but too short to hold everything we need in them,
because the leaves are many more than the palms but we pretend that trees aren’t real,
in our mass hallucination where you all call me crazy for putting my hands up,
and we pretend our lives are bigger and heavier than anything else when really we just need to look at the colors, when really we just need to experience, when really we just need to remember that curly hair holds all the secrets and all the eyes and watching really matters, and we’ll be freer once we’ve bathed in the sunlight and let go, dropped our hands,
and let the world hold us tighter.

I sat at a wooden desk next to an old lady who also sat at a wooden desk. I picked a dandelion, the biggest one I had ever seen, before coming to listen to the talk in the chapel of the brick built college building. It sat on my desk and splashed its yellow into my eyes and occasionally I’d twirl its stem and get the green sort of smell on my fingers. The old lady had picked a dandelion, the second biggest one I had ever seen, before coming to listen to the talk in the chapel of the brick built college building. It sat on her desk and dripped its yellow into my eyes and occasionally she’d twirl its stem with her fragile old fingers and scratch notes with her other hand. She smiled at me knowingly as we did the same thing in the same place at the same time. Did you know that we’re all the same?

there’s this boy
and when he smiles or speaks or laughs i’m FILLED with joy.
he likes me and i like him
and i’m always JUST on the rim
of kissing him. or, crying.

it should be easy to feel this
i mean at the WORST you swing and you miss.
but i’ve never liked men
and i only JUST got okay again
after accepting my “gayness”. but, i like him.