tell me how the game
is supposed to go on
when one won't give up
and the other won't gamble.

"you deserve someone beautiful.
let no one tell you otherwise."*
you think of her,
and you think
of dimly lit january midnights,
of poetry-filled evenings,
of renewed hope each morning,
of tireless afternoons waiting;
of crossed-finger whispers,
of untouchable constellations,
of iron-hearted wolf princesses,
of kindergarten hesitation;
of seconds between held breaths,
of clandestine glances,
of daylight cast upon her hair
of radiance.
you think of her,
and she is the sun.

or if you should think of me,
you would think
of inebriated exchanges,
of secrets drowned in caffeine,
of brushed away tears,
of faces within screens;
of image noise and film grain,
of ink-stained hands,
of nebulous confessions,
of an esoteric slow dance;
of adventitious white lies,
of flickering innocence,
of fire and brimstone,
of convenience.
you think of me,
and i am the ocean.

i am not saying
i am not deserving of you,
only that i am not the sun.
i am the ocean,
and you will only fall into me
after she has left your wings coming undone.

men do not attempt flight
in hopes of their descent.
men do not craft wings
seeking to fly into the convenient.
men like you have been wise enough
not to sink into girls like me.
girls like her have been kind enough
to keep themselves out of your reach.

she is the sun,
and you have flown too close.
your body is a kite lost to the wind,
just like what your father feared most.
i am the ocean,
and the possibility of you feels so close.
i count the seconds until you make contact
like a ticking alligator in the shadows.
i want to believe that it is bad
to want this so badly, believe me
i wish that when you broke my surface
it did not satiate me so quickly.
because for a moment
you may find me beautiful,
how my cool waves soothe your burns
and you feel featherlight in this lull.
but no one stays in the ocean for too long—
others' fingers prune away
others leave out of boredom
and though others return none actually remain.
perhaps you could be different,
perhaps you would never leave me for the shore.
and should you decide to stay,
there would be nothing i'd want more.

but should you start gasping for air,
should you tire of the taste of saltwater and the sight of blue,
should your arms start reaching out again towards her,
i will not take it against you.
you deserve someone beautiful.
to deprive you of this would be a great transgression.
after all she is the sun,
and i am only the ocean.

We are never the same person twice.
"Now" ends as soon as the word is uttered;
whoever we are in one breath
flickers and fades in the next
until it is a thing of the past,
a guttering candle.

We are never the same person twice.
I promised myself I'd never fall for a smoker.
You promised yourself you'd never smoke.
And we swore to each other we were not promise-breakers.
So tell me,
when I first saw you with
the ****** thing
between your fingers,
why did I so badly crave
the taste of nicotine
as long as it meant
your lips against mine?
And why was I willing to risk
entering your carcinogen-filled haze
just to be near enough
to hold your hand?

You turned me against my own self,
yet I could not bring myself to hate you.
You could not bring yourself to love me,
though I've given you all the reasons to.

We are never the same person twice.
Yet we are not always so volatile.
I constantly find myself on my knees.
I am constantly digging through our ashes,
Searching for embers that must still be there.
I constantly find you towering above me.
You are constantly pacing around in your drenched shoes,
Blindly extinguishing everything we could ignite
With your saltwater tears I know will never be for me.

We are never the same person twice.
I await the morning this actually feels true.
The morning I wake up a version of me
That is no longer in love with every version of you.

a speck on a train of evergrowing thought,
i simply exist in your periphery
deploring each opportunity unsought
trying to wash myself clean of your mem’ry

you are certainly a skilled navigator
you make your way into every part of me
the earth was a kaleidoscope of colour
now it’s achromatic–you are all i see

my desires remain to me inchoate
whether aspiration or admiration
to be like you or be with you: the debate
either of which a mode of self-destruction

as to vertiginous heights i watch you soar
i realize it’s neither option at all
for my wings can never quite take flight like yours
lest you crumble under your great wings and fall

i am nothing but the noontime shadow She leaves behind.
sometimes we coalesce into each other. for a fleeting moment I feel alive—
then i am nothing to Her again. nothing to anyone.
everyone loves Her, and
i am not Her.
they do not see her forked tongue like they do the faces she puts on.
they see me and say i am quite like Her.
i almost take it as a compliment.