There are rockets in my feet.

Take me to a new level.

Where the oxygen falls into my lungs

and my blood slides through my circulatory system.

My love is unmelting ice under the sun.

Here I am.

Where are you?

I put on the lotion that sits by the sink
and my heart briefly pauses.
I am electrified,
it smells like your hair did that night.
My bones start to rattle and hum
to the rhythm that we had.
The words "come here"
shook like mortars
on your lips.
Those two syllables
were explosives
buried underneath the wall
that stood invisibly between us.
You were my bomb shelter.
You were my compass,
I always knew which way to go,
in which direction I needed to travel,
to find you.
Even with zip codes
and times zones
and nearly a continent between us,
I could still hear clearly
your heart hammering into my ear.
Sweet noise destruction.
You were my furnace;
defrosted, I held onto you,
afraid that the cold
would slow my blood again;
more beats and I am more,
less beats and I am less.
With you I was anything,
I was everything,
I was no one
and I was every person
I knew I could be.
All at once.
You were my castle,
no moat.
You stood, humble
and wearing that shade of soft slate
that brought out the forests in my eyes.
Salty rain affection.
Your hands were my favorite umbrellas,
shielding me from the dripping universe.
Days with your sun
and I melted
into an ocean of infatuation.
The nights with your moon
irrevocably changed my tides.
I am still swimming against them.

When I am done here,
I will be given to whom I owe everything:
Earth.

My body will become one with the soil,
and so will the invisible scars you've left me with;
and botany will bloom,
and a garden will flourish from my body,
thus making you and I:

forever.

Long after I am gone,
people will walk by at this time of night,
and if they are of the observant type,
they will see the glowing pedals in the moonlight,
and they will pause and whisper,
"Wow.
So lovely.
This has been grown will love."

And, silently, they will wonder,
"Who keeps this up?
Who trims and preens and cares for it?"

And the wind will rustle the leaves on nearby trees,
and a Black Eyed Susan will blossom before their eyes,
and they will utter a small disbelieving,
"Oh."

And that small two letter one syllable will dance
off of their tongue and into the night air,
and Luna will smile,
and that person will keep walking,
and the waves will roll on,
and the Sun will rise again.

November rain,
you slay me with your bravery.

Falling without hesitation.

Gathering in clouds.

Praying;

for destruction,
for implosion,
for release.

there is a silent boom

that paves through the bones which I call “mine”

the vision I use, blurs
and the heart sputters

I think that maybe
it will not start again

that maybe this is it

that the blood will finally slow
and stop

that the skin that holds me in will cool
and harden

that the eyes I see out of will glaze over
but not leak

that I will exit
only to enter
somewhere new.

Out into the dark forest
I will go.
I will wait for him,
not patiently,
but I will wait;
at the mouth of an ebony river,
listening to what the Mother has to say.

And out into the thick dark forest
he will go,
hunting for me.
Searching
like my warm breath
on his neck
keeps his heart beating.

From miles away
he will hear me
whisper his name,
my love rippling through the soil.

Leaves will fall
with the trembling of my hands,
just before they rest on his shoulders.

And in the unearthly spotlight
we will be guided
into the lustrous mist.

And we will thrash and thunder
and bang and crash,
triggering landslides.

We will march on,
our hands clasped
with a fierceness nearly flammable,
fire threat level: crimson.

With a smack
and an echo,

things of mine are broken.

Blood vessels detonate,
spilling, flourishing, blooming
under the seven layers of my armor,
blushing shades of
red, blue, green.

They are embarrassed
by their fragility,
shy about the reminder
that they are not steel.

Immortality is
flamboyant as ever,
my shining ichor,
a beacon for the reaper,
whose mouth begins to water.

Only a false alarm,
the green and yellow
glistening contusion whispers.

Dust myself off
and keep walking,
Pain fades,
and my heart keeps beating.