the doctor scratched notes with his pencil describing our heartbeats
our veins spread through our bodies in little lines
our bodies were a blank manuscript of life
pages of measurements
Mother's ******
Mother's stomach

still in the process of being written,
our DNA and chromosomes silently orchestrated themselves as we awaited our own arrival
suspended in profound silence as we rested,
counting down to the moment when we
would
break
the sound barrier



(ii.) silence
the doctor will scratch notes with his pencil describing our last heartbeats
wrinkles will be spread across our bodies in little lines
our skin a dead manuscript of beauty that once was and music that will never be heard again

so many
pages
with no blank spaces
detailing
what time
how
where

we will make no sound
our ultimate beat of breath (final word) is naught but a distant memory
suspended in the minds of our loved ones
as our internal metronome is laid to rest

A soldier is stripped of everything but his will to live

I nuzzle my head into your chest like a child
You ask if I'm okay
"Yes. I just wanted to hear your heartbeat."

A human being is stranded in the middle of the sea, forced to watch a comrade stop fighting to live.

You run your fingers through my hair,
Cradle my hand in yours
We are still lovers, still breathing

He makes it to the shore of the enemy
Is immediately demoted to POW

I wonder if you know that I'm a prisoner of love; it is quite the wonderful setup. We kiss with the lips first, and you ease into tongue because you are patient; you are okay with waiting

Beatings
Torturous conditions
And then--
He is liked and wanted
Is allowed to leave camp to tell his parents he's still alive
And in that building he sees "a woman for the first time
In two years" you whisper
Something I hadn't thought of
And I wonder if men need women more than I recognize

He was a drug addict, they would tell me
He was "malo," they would say
Until a policeman lost his patience
beat him
so bad that he was in the hospital for months
And never walked again
"He had it coming" was the way they'd end the story

But as I visited with him
I discovered more

He read through the entire Bible while he was getting treatment
His spirit changed
And when he was well enough to leave the hospital bed he was taken home just to be laid down again, yet I suppose that
Sometimes he had a wheelchair

He had a job
wheeled himself across miles of dirt road to get there
people would come in, greeting and asking him, "che, como andas?" which is Argentino for "dude, how are you doing?" but a closer translation would be, "dude, how are you walking (or going)?" he would always smile from his chair and say jokingly, "i don't go, i sit."

He was married and had a little boy, Alejandrito (which means little Alexander)

And i would watch him and his family
in their little tin house patched with plywood
His wife loved him; she met him after his accident
and she was never cross about doing everything for him
they had nothing
yet enjoyed everything their poverty had to offer

my favorite phrase he ever said was:
"if your problems have solutions, why worry? and if your problems don't have solutions, why worry?"

the letter said
"yours forever and ever and ever,
Alex"

your eyes said
"you are the lens through which I see everything"

that is significant
to know that I have gathered
(like raspberries in a basket)
that many portions of

your heart

said I can unzip the veins
and slip quietly into its chamber
whenever it rains
(a snug little sleeping bag for my loneliness)

a soul is a living, breathing thing,
always growing back

(when the rains are over,
there will be more raspberries
you will offer them to me)

come May,

"you'll have all that I can possibly give,
forever."

i
am just waiting for five o'clock to get here.
and you
are over there hoping five o'clock never comes.
we
live in parallel universes for a moment.

my bones
ache from the weight of your soul.
and your bones
can't survive without a crutch called me.
we
live in parallel universes for a moment.

my eyes
open the rising of the sun.
and your eyes
widen with the waning of the moon.
we
live in parallel universes for a moment.

i
no longer love you.
and you
finally fell in love with me.
we live in parallel universes for a moment.

i am not your type? i'm no prince charming, i don't seem dashing
but i could be a charmander that can always re-lights our passion
i could make all your enemies writhe and burn
or the one that keeps your soul and body warm

drag your feet across the carpet,
i'll make your hair stand on end
i can be electric
fill your head with sparks

I'd be a rock type to you, for such a phenomenon
I'd be a boldore person that you could lean on.
I will anchor you down from thoughts of those with moodyness
And envy of my partner who's so pulchritudinous.

I could be photosynthetic, eat a mouthful of dirt for you
I'd go green with envy over any other lover
Let me be your grass type, I could be your ****
(Or just let me deScyther your thoughts)

I could be your faucet let your feelings flow through me
And I will sink every krabby memory you rue. See,
Can be emotional too, I could drown you in thought.
I could be your water type, without me you'll rot.

There will never be a reason to run away
I will always find how to give you a sunny day
It isn't unknown, to succeed, I will always find the words
I could be- wait you mean you don't like nerds?

show me a man
greater than Alex Child
and i will show you a man that does not exist <3