The sun glows differently this time of year
Strong and fierce, dragging scorching bodies to the cold release of water
I know no other love this strong

Butterfly flickers and seaweed dances in the sunset afterglow
Souls come out to play in that humid haze
A little too early, but too long to wait
Kiss me, hold me before its too late

September has come and I can feel the change in my fingertips
     You are home again and I am moving slower
Warmth arises when I look at you, maybe its the heat
     Or the way every step you take matters.

You look at me as if I hold secrets, as if I am a grand and open sea, undiscovered
     And the next moment, like the dreamy memory of a path you once took,
The sound of a drum, the smell of pine wafting
     Unchanging, unforgotten

I may know nothing at all,
    But there is one thing I am sure of—
My soul aches to be near you, to feel yours sing back softly
    I know the seasons change for a reason
The tides push + pull, hearts pulse for years on end
    And that you my dear, are as stable, as steady as the earth beneath my aching soles

You lift me up,
You carry me home.

I'm wide open,
Standing stark at your front door,
Like a covered peep hole,
I'm not welcome anymore.

I'm wide open,
Your shadow frame cracks the floor,
But it's drifting away from me,
Scaling back the dinosaur.

Now I'm closed,
Alone in a clothing line,
Thrift stores we used to find,
Our vintage passing for time.

Do you suppose,
Roses are thorny vines,
Grapes don't smell like wine,
You were never the nurturing kind.

Our love’s only remains belong to photographs. But not, printed, or digital,
Photographs in my mind.
See, I never thought once during the holy nights we spent together to take out my phone and capture the beauty of your skin under the moonlight.
Somehow I knew our time was too precious
The pictures in my mind are something of a different kind,
Magical and dazed
All around you I see dull purples and blues, but your silhouette only, a burning red

Before cameras existed and all we had was art to remember each other by, there was no truth. Only the perfect imperfect visions of one another. 
I think that’s how I would like to remember you.
Thick paint on a blank canvas, never concrete — no one to say yes or no, to tell me whether or not the beautiful things  you whispered to me were true or false

Maybe that’s why I can’t forget you. I can’t look the other way when you're walking by. I only wish that time would slow down so I could pretend we are walking together. You are art to me. I choose to see the beauty in you, when I should be seeing your flaws, your imperfections, pointed out clearly in film.

Because aren’t we all lovers? And aren’t we all poets? To me, breathing is writing, every move we make tells the long and ever-so-dramatic tales of our lives. And doesn’t life imitate art? Do we not read to be aware? Of fictional characters and how all their sighs, and breathes alike spill out like ink onto a page? And we understand them. Humans and art alike. And aren’t we just art? Each and every single one of us?

What I mean to say is I watched feature-length films begin and end with the bat of your eyelashes. A kiss to the back of my hand. Your arm around my waist is an art form in itself.

My mind is a dangerous place. Please, don’t come too close. I may paint you too deeply into my painting, I may love you too much, I may never want to remember you any other way.

I.

If I could take my pain, and wrap it up all pretty, like a present under the tree, your name would be on the tag

Your face is a ghost under my fingertips, empty promises laced with the scent of his cologne

But not yours, you, you don’t smell like him, you don’t laugh like him or smile like him and your eyes are empty chambers.
Two blue jail cells, without anyone to stay, see the only eyes I know are brown
The only men I know how to love are
Not you I wish I had words to describe but I don’t and I find it hard because the only comfort I feel lives in a face I haven’t seen in months

II.

My heart is used to being used, but this time feels different
I’m used to silence on the way home, final words lies, but this, it felt
Tired
Aching
Like a worn out song too many times played
Like a book begging to have the pages closed,

III.

I’ve ran out of ways to change.
I cut my hair, started drinking bitter coffee
Just to keep myself alive for the next moment
I feel the change in my skin, my eyes feel older than before

Maybe that’s why your hair is long. Maybe that’s why you stopped wearing glasses. Maybe you couldn’t stand the idea that I once knew your short hair and glasses, maybe I left a scar bigger than you’d like to admit

Because
You left all these scars, and they hurt like hell
And they all look like you running your fingers through my long hair — see I can’t stand the idea that you once knew my hair as long

My fingers tingle when I hear your voice
It makes me want to run away, but move 5 steps too close
The ghost of my past self dances under the skin I have since overgrown

IV.

To the boy who felt nothing like him,

I’m sorry things didn’t work out right
I’m sorry that you couldn’t see the fire in my eyes
You see so many have tried to put me out,
But I’m still burning,

My heart will never grow cold,

I’m just here,

Waiting

Patiently

For the final spark

Her dark circles two
In her eyes where
I dove deep
Into
Those black pools
In the center
Of doe eyed
Green
Irises the white cream
Eyes
Attentive
My eyes they studied
Made circles took me
My aura in
Undressed me
Wanted lusted
Sighed her two lips
Parted
Red lush
Almost agony
Time seemed
Sighs became touches of arms
Legs brushing
Dances in
Dim light backlit
From a fire
A flame a
Warmth sound and pure
Nature animal sure
A rushing waterfall a sky of no limits
A mountains tall majesty
A prairie fair spread
Before us
A feast
Of targeted greed need wanton
Abandon together
Just us
And heaven
Envying