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galaxy of myths Jan 2018
I've come to terms that I am now making a home out of myself. I feel like all my life I made homes out of people and I was never truly happy. I was wondering why but now it makes sense that I was just renting. I was just temporary. In other words, I was expected to either leave on my own or get kicked out. I think I've experienced both. But that's history. I'll focus on my own now. Building a new house within me. It'll take awhile, getting the vision house I had in mind to come to life. Decorating with all my favorite collection of artifacts, colors, prints. It's a lengthy process; packing, unpacking, moving my things but I know it'll be worth it in the end. This is the dream home I've always had in mind but never thought I'd hold the first brick in my hand.

-m.b
galaxy of myths Jan 2018
The foams gathered;
white formation,
on you lathered.
Breath on halt, suspension.
Dark waves
swept to the side,
like a crown that saves
your regal tide.
The breeze blew
and I, intoxicated.
In awe, unreciprocated.

-m.b
Constellations
Traced for hours
In the dark of night.
Stars and planets
In a universe known
Only to my sight.
Fingers drenched in stardust
From a world that
Knows only my touch.
Senses overstimulated
By a melodic nebula
That draws in my love.
And
I could stare daily
Into the light of
That hidden milky way.
Stare evermore
Into the wonders
Of that universe
That you embody
Filled to infinity
With those precious
And forever blooming
Constellations.
A lone observer I am
But in my mind
In my head
There are more colors than can ever be counted
And I paint pictures of you
I trace your freckles and birthmarks, each forming the constellations that I see shimmering behind my eyelids.

you are a spiritual being, made from the universe.

planet earth rests in your eyes, where the shining water and waves pull me out to sea.
November 11th, 2013.

for the boy with the tidal eyes.
I lose myself in your cosmic current every time.
I love you.
gentle demeanor and caring soul,
you watched me from afar.
you came from a troubled home.
little did you know that I did, too.

misunderstood, my night princess.
you held the keys in your
hands the whole time,
you just never had your timing right.

four garnet pomegranate seeds
you offered me.
believing me to be of
grace and elegance.

I came swiftly.
and though you rule the
grounds of the underworld,
we were the two queens.

I was already broken
by the time you captivated me.

addicted from the start.

I taught you tricks of my own,
and being the princess of darkness,
you already knew them.

but the stories have it wrong.
the history books documented our inevitable arrival incorrectly.

it was not hades that corrupted persephone, but the path of destruction we paved together.
I was always leaning toward
your side from the start.

in love with danger and the promise
that you would never hurt me.

I am your queen, and you are mine.
june 1st, 2014

dedicated to my lady hades.

I loathe my inability to hate you.
I still love you, but I will never be your queen again.

you threw me from the underworld, out of the depths of eternal winter.
my fingertips trace
the outline of your jaw.
they instinctively know
the curvatures of your ears.

my hands have explored
and mapped out
every contour of your
body and heart.

I am the cartographer
of your soul.

I hum sentimental songs
as you sleep,
hoping they enter
your dreams.

that you can feel my presence.

a smile as you part your lips.
a blush when your eyelids
flutter while you dream
(hopefully of me.)

for what seems like the first
time in an eternity of
tempestuous winter;

I feel the unconditional love
and happiness that
accompanies losing
myself in you.

words flow around me as I
search for the correct syntax
to name my desires,
but they remain ineffable.

I want to have your
aura tattooed onto mine,
binding us for life.

we are the red string,
and I am the seamstress.
I tied us together during
my tour of heaven.

the angels gave me
the task of word prophecy
and of sealing our fate.

it was always you.
june 1st, 2014
I am still the cartographer of your soul.
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