that night i stripped my inhibitions
i only wore my nervous laughter that night
still carrying energy from the harrowing experiences atop great highways held moments before
the day of excitement turned into a relaxed adventure
hopping the fence was the hardest part
but soon after,
the water slid onto my skin like a pair of old shoes. nothing had felt more natural in my entire life. the clarity of the liquid made no secret of the slopes that line my sides, and the bareness of my being simply was. the bubbles that rose to greet me with a pop! flourished as if the big bang was happening all over again, in the form of a great teenage girl jumping into a pool. everything about it felt vulnerable, and nothing about it made me care.

so much

remember how we got really very lost in st. augustine, and ended up finding somewhere beautiful on unfamiliar beaches, smoking a bowl next to a oceanside bar dimly lit with christmas lights that was playing one good song after another?

remember how you looked at me the first time we intertwined, alone, laid in big fields, and i noted, how your eyes looked like the freshest honey? the air was full of blossoming love

last night i rolled into you and my head fit right into the nook where your arm meets your shoulder. i said, you are like markham park in the winter time. seeing you is like seeing the excitement i had when i first saw snow, and oh how i expected it to resemble big asterisks falling from bloated clouds, because i live in florida, and that’s all i’d seen.

the bitter cold that settles into a comfortable warmth once you slip on another layer leaves me in a satiated daze. my eyes well up with the thought of you. memories of our shared existence streak past my cheeks and drip off my jaw.

we were laying on the floor.

i jolted and you embraced me.

it was night, and i rubbed your nose, just like my favorite song said to do.

when i asked you to take me away from

myself you only asked how,

and didn’t sigh like the others

or turn away from me faster than the tide pulls back

from a reluctant shore

i don’t know why i kept coming back

but i’m glad i did and

you didn’t know either but

you accepted me anyways

and eventually grew in my direction

it’s a mystery i’ll never solve why you’re as precious as you are

i will tend to the flower of you

as long as my joints will glide

above our heads the sky is lit up

and it never goes dark

like my mind that is always thinking of you

even at night when the stars come out

my dreams tense up when you appear

as long as my fingers

are entwined in yours

and i see the soft curls of your hair

beside me

i will know that everything is okay


and even after you’re gone

your smell resides in my sheets

maybe you’re always here

and maybe everything is always okay

you have a sort of frightening beauty, i thought, and moved my hands down your sides. not in a way that’s scary, but in a way that really makes you stop. and listen. i’m listening to the way you look tonight. i’m hearing everything i’ve ever wanted to hear. it’s like observing for the first time, myself, a child visiting you, the museum, or noticing the vibrant and voracious appearance of something you’ve never really looked at before. that’s what makes it frightening. the way you could pass by something a million times and never once really look at it. and when you do, perceptions of anything but the entrancing allurement stop. you are that way, except i know you, i know your face, your body, the way your lips lock into mine, and the hard lines that outline your jaw. i could go on and on describing each perfect square inch of your figure. you’re radiant.

then you looked at me and your eyes turned golden, and oh how in that instant i thought about how i knew you like i knew god, which is all too well, yet as though i’d never even seen anything like your kind of beauty before, every single time my eyes fall onto you. i said, “get naked and come into bed with me” and you responded “don’t tell me what to do” before  taking your clothes off and wrapping into those soft blankets with me.

i like going to sleep with the sweet feeling of you still resonating really loudly within me. you’re like a taste i can’t consume, or an aura i can’t define, invisible breath, visible heartbeat. lay on my breast, let me run my fingers across the outlines, and the valleys of your shape.

i have never believed in god
and never will
but i do believe in love
and jesus christ, the way you make me feel
so holy
like the pews that line the path to redemption
the stained glass shining down on the collective belief of something else being out there
i will pray for you because you
are the closest thing to god
i have ever believed in