Do you ever think about my thoughts?
Do you know the rivers that flow through my head?
The pools deep in my heart?
You are fast asleep, I am wide awake.

When someone passes, yes the body itself is gone, but the spirit and soul wander leaving fingerprints on the one's left behind.

*

She sees him in the snowfall - light and quiet - yet sparkling as it falls and hits the pavement.
She sees him in people's eyes - lost in the color
She sees him in the laughter that surrounds her - it fills her heart
She sees him while driving - far and wide touching corner to corner
She sees him in the color red - bold and full
She feels him in the wind, in the sunlight, in the cold, in the sand, snow, rain, leaves.
She feels him while tears rush down her cheekbones
She feels him while she twirls around the dance floor - precise movement
She feels him in the never ending tune - tapping to the rhythm of her heartbeat.
She sees him in the bad days, but also the good.

He left behind stardust that is imprinted on her heart
He is at rest now - high in the clouds - playing on stars
And when she feels lost, he throws some more stardust down from heaven right where she can see it.

Yes the body is no longer there, but those who pass, truly never pass.
"For they are like the wind" and never leave us.
They become our new constant
Something that will never run, disappear, or fall
Our new infinite infinity

She climbed the fire escape onto the empty rooftop
High above the city below her
She lit a cigarette, the wind chilled her delicate skin
Flowed through her long hair

She sat above the bright city lights, looking down
at all the tiny people, tiny cars
All her thoughts falling flat
Her soul felt empty as she stared down, the smoke swirling around her cheek bones and past her finger tips
The lights didn't seem as bright that high up.

Burning - watch the cigarette light - then watch the smoke move & twirl
- touching everything it encounters
Watch it's light slowly fade as if the world is hypnotized in the blur of the smoke

I know every line on your palms
I know every curve & dip of your collar bones
I know every scar, every cut, every bruise
I know the exact shade of color in your eyes
I know the patterns of your movement -- your touch
I painted a beautiful canvas all over your soul

Then one day we broke -- fell and shattered
& now all I can say is I *knew

I cling to the little moments. The little interactions.

Like the time you told me you liked the color of my shoes.

Like the time you told me if you could go anywhere, you'd go to the Colorado mountains.

Like the time you brushed your hand across my shoulder as you passed.

Am I reading into the little moments? Little scatters of time sprinkled on the canvas.  The shades of reds, blues, and yellows.

I barely know you. But I cling to the moments. Because darling, I would love nothing more to get acquainted with your heart.

What is a connection?
Something that binds - intertwines two souls together - for reasons unknown

Is it considered fate to feel connected to another person, another heart?
Another person's passions, fears, scars, cuts, and bruises?

What is considered a connection?
It is formed through words - touch?

What is considered a strong connection?
A binding, comfortable, mysterious, longing connection?

It must be a fate thing

I keep driving
Out to the country side to all the places we used to go
I keep driving
To the barn we had our first kiss
I keep driving
To the field where our eyes danced and our laughter echoed under all the pretty lights strung in the night sky
I keep driving
Wondering - trying to find you in all the lost places
Trying to find you in the lost space, the lost time
I keep driving
I run out of gas

Expression
Dancing on your face and through your fingerprints as they touch my delicate skin; goosebumps
I can feel it when you kiss me
Expression
I see it in your big colorful eyes; I’m lost for words, lost in your eyes
I see it in your movement as we lay entangled in the linen sheets
I feel it in your hand prints and see it while I swim in your collar bones; still lost for any words
Expression – yours -- so simple, yet so complex.

You flooded my every sense
You flooded my sights with artwork
- my ears with harmony
- My touch with gentleness
- My taste with sweetness

You left me with no defenses
You built me mosaics with every last word.

Fall -- you broke my heart. You took, stole,  & burned the corners of my flesh, ripping at every heart string. The leaves changed color, and so did I.

Winter -- the snow was heavy this year. My heart was still shattered, but stages of grief come in waves. And my wave was 10 feet high on the idea of denial.

Spring -- the grief had settled a bit. Spring bloomed with new possibilities and I savored all the new color and attraction. Yet, your eyes were still the brightest color I saw. Your hands continued to be my favorite canvas of art.

Summer -- This wave was the one that possessed most depth. Sun soaked up all the tears. Memory held my mind and heart captive. This was the first summer I wasn't spending with you. All of our past seasons washed past my mind -- causing the largest wave of grieve.

Fall --  my heart was finally at peace. We got coffee. We talked. We were the same once again. We laughed, cried, smiled. You and I were normal once again. Not  connected by a love relationship , but connected into something must deeper, much more real, much more permanent.

it has almost been a year since we have been apart. And for some reason rain, stars, movies, laughter, and fall are my most fond memories of you. Our connection then and now continue to shine bright in my eyes and heart.

And although it wasn't our time in this moment, of this precious life, you and I will forever be connected in a deeper way than most.

I still see shooting stars and think of you. Infinite possibilities within infinite seasons.

Let us kiss the scars away
Palm to palm
Fingertips intertwined
Swimming in each other's collar bones
Lost in each other's eyes
Let me count every eye lash, learn every story, dream, passion
Let us kiss the scars away

my body weighs more than a number.

my body is the weight of the sea -- the stars, moon, and galaxies dancing around the corners of my soul.

my body weighs more than a number.

my worth is the airplane rides, deep conversations, dancing, laughing, crying.

my body weighs more than a number.

my legs have taken me across worlds of sea, land, and mountains.
my arms have hugged. my lips have kissed. my hair has been washed in salt water and seaweed. my fingers have playing white and black keys, painted, created and traced the corners of his palms.

my body weighs more than a number.
my value weighs more than a number.
I am m o r e than a number.

Let me be your  breath
Inhale and exhale me slowly - quietly
Let me fill your lungs with every touch, every word
Until your lungs are filled completely
Let me teach you how to breathe again.

Let me be the cursive lines that flow from the black ink to your torn up notebook.

Let me be the harmony in your ears
Let me be what you write about at 2 am

Let the thoughts of us transfer to your pen
Flow from your mind and onto the white blank page.

The paint brush runs across your bare skin
You watch me paint with all different colors - blues, blacks, greens, yellows, reds - vibrant, yet calm

Your eyes widen as the canvas on your back blossoms
Blossoms with flowers and faces and color

As the paint brush runs across your delicate skin, we lay entangled in the linen sheets.

We lay intertwined in all the vivacious colors
You told me to paint over all the scars on your skin, to create something beautiful from the broken pieces

So I painted a beautiful canvas - I created *art

Paper plane high above the clouds
Soaring - Flying - Wind

Paper plane shoots into the stars
Soaring - Flying - Wind

Paper plane too high to see all the tiny people, tiny places, tiny faces, tiny problems
Soaring - Flying - Wind

Paper plane high in the stars, moon, sun, & clouds.

The rain pours
It fills every crevice and crack
It patters off the window panes and the broken hearted
The chilled air blankets over the drowned bringing goosebumps to delicate skin
It pours, swallows, and masks.
The rain falls and the broken are rain drenched.

Rain is one of my favorite things ...
The sound as it hits the ground
Or the smell as it fills the air

The rain is calming and quiet
Yet, fills the soul with every drop

It hear it from the basement window
I hear it from the back of the red car
I hear it from the couch in your living room

The rain soaks up our hearts in its downpour
& Later it drips slowly from our eyes and down our checks

Yet, rain is still my fondest memory of you

This is a sad poem

He had instilled in her head that no one would ever see oceans in her eyes again -- that no one would ever love her again.

Therefore, the gardens of her heart were guarded with barbed wire -- around every corner, every crevasse.

Then one day, someone started to remove the stitches
However, it proved to all be lie.
The feeling of rejection was all too familiar.

And when the same thing happened again, the concrete around her heart hardened. No sunshine shown into her eyes. The sound of rain was a soundtrack on repeat in her ears.

The poem doesn't have a happy ending.

The shooting stars danced across the night sky

Its tiny feet leaving behind fingerprints and memories on the scarred and broken

Shoot- bang - fizzle

It glazes the dark skyline filling every crevasse

Stars used to be my favorite thing
Now they remind me of you

You sang me a melody of kindness, of light

You told me it was going to be okay and that loneliness was just a concept

You showed me corners of the world I did not know existed

You built me a fort of comfort, love and joy

You sipped black coffee with me

You twirled me and held me as we danced under the light of the sun

You made me laugh

You would call at 2 a.m. just to say hello

You inspired me to write more

You inspired me to love more

To feel more deeply

You said my soul reminded you of the color yellow -- bright

You always took pictures of the life we had with the Polaroid and said, 'this needs to be captured'

If only you had stayed.

The trees are our backdrop; the canvas is painted with deep greens, soft reds, and vibrant orange.

We walk under the draped blue September sky.

You are wearing the old black vans that you claim you've had since you were 11 years old. They have a small hole near the toe.

I am wearing the mint, coffee-stained high-top converse.

We walk side by side, close, but barely touching. Our fingers teasing one another with small touches.

The wind pushes us forward, deeper into the tree's belly.

We explore. Explore caves, rocks, waterfalls, trails, treetops.

You tell me that trees are like poetry to you. You grab a small yellow flower. You rip off a piece from the bottom, scrambled it a bit in your hands then slowly turn me away from you. As you brush my curled hair closer to you, you tuck the little burst of yellow in my hair.

"Perfect."

Those trees were poetry to you. & even when you are now thousands of miles away, they are your poem to me.

Raining down my cheek

Warm, clear and crisp.
How is it that within a single drop of water, emotions are tangled together -- messy and crumbled.

The tear hits the ground and all of a sudden it illuminates the earth. Turning the grass green and watering each flower of your mind.

You see, pain does that. Turns the broken and bruised into stronger, colorful beings.

Blue eyes -- lost inside yours

Green eyes -- you are lost in mine

So much unknown, wanting to dive into the color -- learn your fears, dream, and scars

Desire

Fear