They're the ones who live poetry.
You know who I'm talking about.
The ones whose motion is meter,
Those whose words are lyrical,
Whose actions are epic verses,
Whose thoughts must be rhyme,
Those to whom heaven is likened,
The ones that you can't help but
Fall in love with. Those people.

Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.

I am in love with Autumn
(a scandalous affair, really),
Because, you see, Autumn
Is married to old man Winter.

Autumn, ever elegant, dons
Her best calico raiment
And dances and whirls
Across the mountains,
Shimmering orange, yellow, red.
The entire world bountiful underfoot.

Even the heavens are in love with her,
Giving her cobalt skies.
Kissing her lips with sunshine,
And caressing her cheeks with rain.

Her mouth a radiant sliver of the moon,
Teeth glinting like the stars above.
Life is her joy and so she dances
Before her jealous husband
Can secret her away.

The wind catches her hair,
Wishing it's turn to dance with her.
But, just for a season,
It's my turn.

We were a pair of whirling stars,
Hurtling around a supernova
And wheeling above planets.
You see, stars form in pairs,
And wander the universe
In a fumbling dance.

-Until-

They collide with
Something else and are ripped

-Apart-

Our seams split.
Our fingers strain and scrabble.
Trying to keep a grip on our other half
Until gravity takes hold
And
Flings
Us
To
Separate
Sides
Of
The
Universe

We search and search for them.

But, we are ever apart.
We rise and fall and collapse,
Our last light shining the brightest
In a last homing beacon.

-Until-

Human beings,
Born from dust,
Stars in our veins,
Weave together.

Stardust of one calling to the stardust of another.

Remembering the time
When we skated across the universe
In each other's arms.

Once upon a time,
I spiraled
Into madness and
Enjoyed
Myself so much
That I
Never bothered
To climb
Out.

She held a hurricane
inside her heart.

And yet,

They wondered
why it rained.

In a world of puddles,
Dare to be an ocean.