She said she collects pieces of sky,
cuts holes out of it with silver scissors,
bits of heaven she calls them.
Every day a bevy of birds flies rings
around her fingers, my chorus of wives,
she calls them. Every day she reads poetry
from dusty books she borrows from the library,
sitting in the park, she smiles at passing strangers,
yet can not seem to shake her own sad feelings.
She said that night reminds her of a cool hand
placed gently across her fevered brow, said
she likes to fall asleep beneath the stars,
that their streaks of light make her believe
that she too is going somewhere. Infinity,
she whispers as she closes her eyes,
descending into thin air, where no arms
outstretch to catch her.

For right or wrong
True or false
It doesn't matter
To an open pair of lips
That meet to crease I Love You
When forbidden.
If we hold each other tight enough
We can melt
The rules, opinions, and walls
So they don't apply to us
Not anymore.
Not in your arms.

A gun raised to the mirror
They shatter
And they only cry together
A beautiful boy and a beautiful girl reflected in shards that litter the floor
A clinking, lightning crack "I love you."
A thunderous, infinite echo pouring down
Razor sharp and tearing skin
Gasping, sinking, drowning them with everything.

I love you when you're not here
And I love you when you're with her
But when I hold you tight
When you're all mine
I crave something, something more.
Your hands gentle on my waist
Your breath I caress with my lips
It's just like the fourth of July
Cause you're the silence and the echo
Of fireworks I've known before.

And I'm stuck wishing I felt more.

And I'll never forget your heart
Flittering fast beneath my palm
Like a cage on a butterfly.
And by the way I love you, too.

I allow the words to burn through my brain
but I can't seem to light the love letters.
I found your necklace in my drawer,
a metronome swinging to the tears I cried.
And your shirt abandoned on my floor
I can't look but I know exactly what it smells like
Smoke and cologne and you.
The old pink carnations still loyal on my table
It reminds me how you never liked flowers
and the bouquets you picked for me anyway.
Artifacts solid and real,
palpable, physical proof of you and I.
But I want to know
Where do the dreams go
and the memories
What about our kisses
I can feel them in this room
Potent and hypnotizing
and I don't know how to throw that untouchable piece of us away.