tell me that my hair is darker than the night
and that you'd rake your fingers through it's black ink
   tell me that you wouldn't change it for the world
that it contrasts my skin and it takes the color out of
                                                                            dominoes

   tell me that my brown eyes are fine and
they will never, not ever lose sight of you. tell me
  that though they tremble and waver now that
i will catch glimpses of beautiful things, if not now
                                                                              soon

last night;
our neighborhood was screams
of awe and fear
both were unfamiliar

silent impact
our moon was tilted on its side
it rattled and grew closer
monstrous and looming
larger
          than
                  life.

our moon
stretched our tides until they snapped
coasts held hostage and cities blank
planes dropped like birds
plucked
        away
                from
                      our blue canvas.

it was a beacon of terror
man once set foot upon
neap tides now creep tides
a mother hen
          gone
                 rogue.

and if it feels like
you're seeing double and
living through a time-lapse
you are alive

if it feels like
you're on a train to
nowhere
getting wind caught in your hair,
oh, you're alive

and if it hurts, you'll be alright