What if,
instead of shooting
people into space,
we grew our way there?
What if,
we built tree forts in trees,
so that we could plant trees
in the tree forts,
and when they grow,
build more forts
in those trees and
continue that process
while adding gardens
all along the way
along with more tree forts
for everyone to live in
and everything would be connected
to form a living structure
that continually grew around us
as we continually grew within it
and our atmosphere would
expand
to encompass an amount of space
that we could have never imagined,
and we would grow with the trees
stronger, sturdier, and healthier
rather than continually
contract
and thin by thickening the pollution
in the space within our atmosphere
as we die with the trees
weak, withered, and dis-eased?

I will never touch you.
I know that.
You will never even know I want to.
I called you beautiful today
In the trappings of a joke
And I saw it hit you
And have an effect I never expected to cause
And it thrilled through my bones
And I know
I will never touch you,
But
I know, too, that when you look away
My eyes follow you with
A sigh never spoken
And in my head
I see it all
I
Could drag my lips along those sculpted shoulders
That your shirt falls from so carelessly,
I could run my fingertips down your spine
And I could breathe into the hollows of your throat
And how is it
That you look like someone carved you from marble?
Every inch.
I dared to look at you in the mirror today
When your back was turned
And the breath was pulled from me
By how much longing could well up in my heart in an instant
For someone so distant.
And what if I just told you?
Sat there and told you
That I am afraid to try and draw you because
I won't do you justice.
That you undo me
And I don't know why.
That I could show you more passion
Just by meeting your eyes instead of glancing down
Than every man who has ever traveled the valleys of your body
And created the rivers in your soul.
I will never tell you.
I will never touch you.
I will only smile when you look at me
And long for you when you don't.

I always wonder why it is
That seeing someone else's tears
Creates such awe in me.
I want to ease your pain
But I am also
Transfixed by it.

The mask slips
When people cry.
The seams rip
And all of a sudden parts of them
That are never meant to be seen
Writhe in the light,
Raw and agonized and
Beautiful
As hell.
I do mean that- hell.
It is both
Divine and perverse
To witness someone else's pain.
I always hold my breath
As if I could shatter their soul
Just with the knife's edge of my gaze.

When you cry
Most people politely look away
For their own comfort
And tug their disguises closer,
Check their pinnings
Reminded of their fragility
By the gauche display
Of yours.

When you cry
I
Freeze like a photograph
And I see you as a child
I see you as a god
I see you
As a rainstorm reaching its fingers across
All the ugly concrete and glass we build
And getting inside
Underneath
To make the trees bloom.
When you cry
I see you like I see a painting
Hung in a museum so quiet you want to hush your heartbeat
Just to keep the stillness electric.
When you cry
You are so bright that when I glance at you
And look away
I am blind for a moment.

There is something about seeing that loss of control in another person
That one second of utter truth
The brutal, consuming honesty that comes with tears
That reaches inside, for those who dare let it,
And wounds exquisitely.
There is a bare second
When the part of them that recoils from the light
Clasps shriveled hands with the answering piece of you
And both hurt-
To see and to be seen
But that moment
Reminds you that you are alive
And
Why.

I need you most when it's quiet
When there's nothing on my mind
And you.
These are the instances,
To have you close
Within reach
My fingertips feeling your warmth
These are the instances
I want you most
Not when it's dark
Not when I'm sad
Or happy or angry,
Not when I'm lonely
Not when it's sunny,
But when it's quiet.

-D.D.

There's something about the way
The early morning air tastes
When you're up before the dawn
Slowly making your journey
Along the side of a mountain

There's something to be said
About all the individuals
Forging their way in the world
Attempting to create meaning
Out of a meaningless galaxy

There's something about how
Your eyes linger on mine
How we're somehow connected
Even within the silence

There's something about
The cosmos and it's mysteries
A spiral of stars lighting up
The dark midnight backdrop
How we often forget to appreciate
All this beauty right above us

There's something about the way
Children are so enthusiastic
Of all their surroundings
Holding this wonder
For all around them
A curiosity and sense of adventure
We somehow unfortunately lose
More and more every year

There's something to be acknowledged
In how every human being on the planet
Is completely unique and unlike anyone else
A multitude of qualities and traits
Yet somehow, we are able to find
Friends and loved ones
Akin with our own spirits
Those who are more ourselves
Than even we are

There's something about the way
Precipitation falls down in droplets
Creating melodies on our windowpanes
Drizzling and misting over everything
Making the earth
Feel fresh and new again

A romantic moon as big as the screen
Eats dinner with a lovely, old tree
And its craters are holding the lemonade
And its branches are serving the soup
And their love is not bound to chains
For when the day brings dawn
The lovely, old tree is left without


-


The lovely, old tree sits quietly and waits
For the love of its life to return
And it droops its leaves with aching sadness
Until the pinks and the blues fade into the air
And the lover, the moon, is again standing there
And its craters are holding the lemonade


-


Black takes over the screen

And the room fills with standing applause.

Black bow ties and red gowns

Envious of the love they have witnessed.