You told me once that your body is a temple, and today I saw it crumble
Your turrets fell to the ground as you joined me in hand and hip
And you jumped from the cradle into my arms
But your palms shook firm like mahogany as you slipped out from your floral silhouette
I held your heart in my hands as it was beating
And you captured me like the Garden of Eden
I never knew you, not all of you at once
Not until today when you revealed every contour and lesion
Every little cadence beneath your breathing
Please don't let this be us peaking
Don't let the years pass by in fleeting
When you start to count your seasons in freedom
Because one day you will reach the end of my imagination
Where people raise pickets of indignation
If this cannot last forever, then shall it be my resignation

I want to know what you think about late at night
Are you like me do you take every idea and dissect it till it's out of sight?
Wonder why your brain is constantly at war with itself
Take every little idea , read it and put it back on the shelf
Or is it feeble, simpleminded, a burnt out light?
Why can't I read you, you're bound shut
Why can't I tell if you're worth the trouble or am I just stuck in a rut
I want to tell you how I feel, but if it didn't work out  that would ruin all our little dish room inside jokes about Key and Peele
How am I supposed to bottle things up when I can't find the seal
Why do I spend all my tired nights up writing about you
I don't know who you are, I don't know how to feel

I did not live until this time
Crown'd my felicity,
When I could say without a crime,
I am not thine, but thee.

This carcass breath'd, and walkt, and slept,
So that the world believe'd
There was a soul the motions kept;
But they were all deceiv'd.

For as a watch by art is wound
To motion, such was mine:
But never had Orinda found
A soul till she found thine;

Which now inspires, cures and supplies,
And guides my darkened breast:
For thou art all that I can prize,
My joy, my life, my rest.

No bridegroom's nor crown-conqueror's mirth
To mine compar'd can be:
They have but pieces of the earth,
I've all the world in thee.

Then let our flames still light and shine,
And no false fear controul,
As innocent as our design,
Immortal as our soul.

I was eleven, the first time I saw you.
I thought you were sweaty, and that your hair was too long.
I had just skipped two straight months of school,
they had told you about me and I hated that.

I was twelve, the first time I met you.
I remember my classmates were uninspired
and equally uninspiring.
I wrote things for you, I wanted you to know that
I wasn't like them.
I not only thought things through, I couldn't stop.
I wrote to keep from going crazy.

You showed me your plays,
your poetry,
your short stories.
You showed me college english textbooks
full of various prose,
each one flavored slightly differently.

You showed me The Giver,
and Dead Poet's Society.
I wondered if you really fancied yourself
the captain,
leading your charges into vast fields of knowledge,
and what's more,
appreciation for the knowledge.

You were the teacher that made kids
want to teach.
You looked after me.
Made sure I was fed.
Signed me up for extra credit,
even when I said no.
You showed me what it was like
to have someone's support.
You showed me love.

When I went to high school
we stopped talking,
except for the occasional email.
But I had a boyfriend
And I smoked ***
And I didn't want
to let you down.

When I graduated, I sent you an email.
Explained everything.
I begged to see you,
to talk about all that happened.
You never replied.

You died the week before I received my diploma.
Since then,
I've been going off of soundbite bits of advice
you once gave me,
trying always to remind myself that I can do this,
because
you showed me.