I was going to tell you

That I think I’m falling in love

With you

It’s just that I thought

You’d have enough to celebrate today

It being The Fourth and all

I wonder what the first thing you touched was

When you escaped the womb

Besides your mother and father

Any other family members

Doctors and other trinkets that assist

Or are given in the hospital



What was the first thing you laid your hands on with intent

Before me

A piece of a butterfly wing

Your new soft Teddy

Glow in the dark star

Newly found birth-mark



I wonder what you have seen

Before you saw me

That has made your heart, your eyes, your skeletal composition,

your tremendous amount of insides

Flutter

Go off balance



New toy that’s on the market

A train set

The cute girl in your first grade class

That you couldn’t talk to normally

So instead

You teased her



What have you heard

That harmonized with your soul

Your ghost, your physical form

Before your left ear

Caught a trickle of my sigh

Soon my voice that would follow



A gentle lullaby

Your mother used to sing to you at night

Your favorite song

I can no longer remember the name of

I just know it went

“You are my peach, you are my plum”



What have you smelt

That is your aroma therapy

Or was

Besides my conditioner

And shampoo

My old lady perfume



Was it your own soap

A pastry baking in the oven

Or was it something I find foul

Like mushrooms, maybe

A scented candle

An old Grand Piano



I wonder what you thought

When you found out you loved me

Did it bring attention to all five of your senses

Which one is your strongest

Obviously it is not your sense of taste

Otherwise you’d love me more than her saliva

You pound on my spine

And it echoes through to my head

Like I am a gong

And you are the man with the baton



When you arrive I feel alive

Because you bring the smell of thyme

Which evokes a positive state of mind

Though you never show up on time

It is your scent

Tired thoughts have taken over
Slacking on grammar
Word choice
Sentence structure
Originality
Plausibility
But you're still quick
And loud
In my sleepy brain and heart

You are what makes them brilliant
Without your brilliant self on my mind
I would not be able to write brilliance

I’m not a poet
But you smell like
Those overused blue violets
And red roses

Your bones broke. I heard them, all of them. I let you carry far too much. You already held your heavy love for me throughout every blood vessel and chasm in your body. Just not to my knowledge, until I professed my love to you. The weight you could carry had reached full capacity. My love was too much. It marinated in your brain for less than a second. An overloaded mental breakdown transpired before the rest of your body could register it. Before your bones broke.