When I think of you, I think of time.
I think of the privilege of watching each and every line,
Deepen on your face.

How like rivers they’ll weave and dip,
Bending and stretching as the curve of your hip,
Stories told as we’ve grown old.

When I think of you, I think of flowers.
I think of all of the blessed hours I have spent in your presence,
What a gift!

I see fields teeming with lavender and rose,
Fireworking nature, in all of her prose,
Mother Earth describes you better than I even know.

When I think of you, I feel effervescent of limb,
Like I might float away, on a whim,
And land just outside your door.

When you’re near, my heart thrums,
My foolish body goes nearly numb,
And I’m not quite certain what my brain becomes.

When I think of you, I am elated,
No, more than that, though no word really conveys it,
Suffice it to say:
I am hopelessly, splendidly, dreadfully in love.

When you leave me, I think of small things.
How long the towel you used will stay on the rack.
How long my pillow will smell like you.
How long I’ll keep finding your hair in my shower.
How long my bedsheets will stay the way you made them.

When I leave you, I think of little things.
How long it will take my toothbrush to dry next to yours.
How long the silverware I used will sit in the drying rack.
How long the loaf of bread I ate from will remain in your cupboard.

When we leave each other, I think of tiny things.
How long our swapped sweatshirts will go without washing.
How long your fingerprints will stay on my counters.
How long my boba cup will stay in your recycling bin.
How long it’ll be until someone else is the passenger in my car.
How long until we see each other next.

Because I cannot tell you I’m falling in love with you yet, I tell you when I kiss you, in those moments when I try so hard to yell, scream it into your awareness with the gentle touch that only holistic connection can bring.
When you smile at me, I am young again, it is Christmas, there are gifts under the tree and an untouched blanket of snow on the ground.
You smell like home even though I have never known your scent before, yet when I hold you it is a warm blanket in a pine-scented cabin well worn with age, the fire is crackling, and we are sitting on the  leather couch which is much too old, splintering seams and cracked brown cushions.
When I am near you, I hear but one refrain, that I am falling in love with you, so wholly and completely, in the way the color of your eyes so gently touches the color of your skin, the way that your freckles cannot be compared to stars— that is too common a likening, but rather to each instance which has made me rush deeper and deeper into you… beautiful, effortless you.
The way you speak entrances me, how you pronounce your “s”s and your “rums” (rooms) and your laugh, the kind of head-thrown-back, teeth out belly laugh that people try so hard to emulate, that is ascribed to the most lovable storybook characters, but which I have learned is a hallmark of your effervescent, overflowing joy.
When I am with you, I am so present it hurts, yet I am safe, I am understood, I am seen in ways that only a coveted few experience in their lives.
I am falling in love with you, for you are Christmas and pine trees and laughter, you are staying up too late and stargazing and adventure, you are creek water that is far too cold but far more refreshing, you are holding hands in the sweltering heat and wearing white shoes on muddy hikes, you are astonishing. And I hope desperately that you know it.

As the seasons change, I realize there’s no one I’d rather weather the weather with than you.
In six months, the sun has sung the green leaves of the poplar trees red with delight and the autumn rays are finally solid enough for me to hang my coat upon.
You are the first crisp air I breathed in the summer and the last warm blanket I’ll clutch in the fall.
In six months, the chime has tolled last year gone and this year new and the streets which were briefly ours are now everyone’s.
You are frozen smoothie bowls and salty New England air.
In sixth months, I have made my peace with twenty-one and, as she waits excitedly, you are crossing the threshold to meet her.
You are a fallen tree over a creek, perfect for two “friends”, and a soft-clanging bell delivering her soliloquy to the listening sea.
In sixth months, the Earth has travelled two hundred and ninety-two million miles to spend each morning and each night lain next to the sun while I have travelled two thousand and ninety-two miles to be lain next to you.
You are a boot-tappin’ Appalachian folk song and that first triumphant forkful of Trader Joe’s gluten-free pumpkin bread.
And as the seasons change, I realize there’s no one I’d rather be here with than you.

as i delete you from my camera roll
i remember something my father said
"perhaps time is like the pages of a book"
pressed together so delicately
what really separates today from yesterday
this year from the next?

as i reread our story from its ending
i remember your favorite movie
the protagonist can time travel
undo his past mistakes so easily
what really stains the past
rends memory to turmoil?

as i wipe the memories from my face
i remember my favorite movie
it's about time
the father sacrifices his daughter for the universe
or was it really himself?

i watch as we grow happier, closer, while knowing each other less and less.

i hope somewhere, i am opening a door for you and welcoming you into my home.

I awoke one morning
To find eternity stretched before me,
Forever and ever, there before my eyes.

She likes to wear secondhand t-shirts.

I awoke one afternoon
To find the universe yawning wide open,
Stars and cities and teeming with life.

She likes to sleep beneath a weighted blanket.

I awoke one evening
To find Heaven curled up beside me,
Living and breathing and marvelously existing.

She likes to eat hummus.

you trusted me,
and you collected the trinkets i gave you and made me an altar by your bedside
you trusted me,
and you broke pumpkin bread beneath the trees on a picnic blanket in april

i love you,
and i still did when i went to her house and slept in her room
i love you,
and i still did when i welcomed her into mine

you believed me,
and you gave me handmade gifts with love in every stitch
you believed me,
and you rubbed my back while i cried and held me when i was scared

i love you,
and i still did when i sent her letters and told her my dreams
i love you,
and i still did when i betrayed the very thing we'd created together.

she is truly indescribable
when i tell you there is a universe which she inhabits, solely--with a few pine trees and visited, on occasion, by the raspberries of reddened cheeks--would you understand?
of course not, for everyone has someone who occupies their own universe.
if i told you she was the best of them all, would you believe me?
that her universe has the most beautiful vistas, the clearest skies, rolling hills stretching to infinity and unfathomable sunsets
would you agree with this fact?
perhaps, if you knew her.
to know her is to know of what i speak. at least, you'd be able to peek through the telescope and gather some version of her temporary eternity.
she gets stuck in my throat, sometimes.
all lovers say that their breath is taken, but how might you know what i mean when i say that sometimes i cannot breathe yet my lungs continue to function?
to glimpse her universe is to plunge into the darkness fully, with such uncertainty that you are certain to find a garden bursting with flowers, the most beautiful flowers. you are certain to find untamed happiness, wildly stunning serenity, and two or so campers in maine looking on in awe.
her universe is heart-stoppingly astonishing, incomprehensibly astounding, unendingly, stupendously amazing.
i never want to leave.

Your body is the soft light filtering through green leaves,
The sunrise over the water that reflects into infinity and infinity and infinity.

Your eyes are the gentle clouds floating by on a blue day,
A bygone, lilting breeze where cares are carried carefully away.

Your voice is the sweet birdsong on a warm summer's morning,
The deep church bell that rings so divine that people begin to believe it is the sound of God himself.

While there is no shortage of syntax that I can use to suggest the sweet serenity which serendipitously serenades all souls you surround,

When I see you it is as though I have found myself idle in an idyllic meadow, ignorantly inarticulate in the face of inescapable, unimaginable splendor.

The brushstroke curve of your lips and your neck and your hips and your hands is my favorite painting in the world's museum.

You are so much, you are waking up from a nightmare only to remember you are safe and warm in your bed, you are the rushed, breathless heartbeats after a first kiss, you are July on film, you are the first sip of a perfectly **** strawberry lemonade from the Cheesecake Factory.

But most of all, your body is the soft light filtering through green leaves,
The sunrise over the water that reflects into infinity and infinity and infinity.

Tonight, I'm falling in love with myself.
I will study her hands so closely,
I will marvel at each line.

Tonight, I'm falling in love with myself.
I will hug her body so tightly,
I will be so glad she's mine.

Tonight, I'm falling in love with myself.
I will love the way her hair falls,
I will cherish all her time.

Tonight, I'm falling in love with myself.
I will want her sense of humor,
I will smile at how she's kind.

Tonight, I'm falling in love with myself.

we sat.
a woman passed.
she said,
"you look like you're enjoying each other."
she added,
"or the day."
you said,
"we're enjoying the day."
I was enjoying you.

somewhere in the past, I am looking on You for the first time.
You make me smile, and we walk for far too long.

somewhere in the past, my palms are sweaty for the first time.
Yours are too, and we laugh about it.

somewhere in the past, I am hearing You laugh for the first time.
You are so beautiful when you laugh, and it makes me happy.

somewhere in the past, You are holding me for the first time.
You are so comforting, and every time we're together, I don't let go.

somewhere in the past, we are falling in love for the first time.
You are everything, everything, everything, and I am obsessed.

somewhere in the past, we are watching our show entwined.
You are forever and ever and ever, and I am content.

somewhere in the past, we are planning our future.
You are in a wedding dress in Washington and Oregon and Colorado and I am so lucky.

somewhere in the past, we are still together.

We had just met.
You told me that you were tired of your roommate,
So I came and saved you.
We sat in the stadium and talked.
The way the stars illuminated you was incredible.
The air felt electric and I never wanted it to end.
This evening I will not forget.

We had just started.
I told you that I was still nervous,
So you came and saved me.
We sat in the drive-through and laughed.
The way the lights touched you was magnificent.
The world felt okay and I never wanted it to end.
This evening I will not forget.

We had just begun.
We were both so certainly uncertain,
So we came and saved each other.
We sat in your room and smiled.
The way you were so close to me was overwhelming
The room felt so comforting and I never wanted it to end.
This evening I will not forget.

We had just confessed.
We were both so incredibly happy,
So we continued to love each other.
We sat in your car and listened.
The way you sang was beautiful.
The moment felt so transcendent and I never wanted it to end.
This evening I will not forget.

These evenings I will not forget.

I saw You again last night.
You smiled at me so beautifully.

This stunning mirage of You,
It blessed me when I awoke.

I held your hand.
I remembered what it felt like.

You still exist with me in my mind.
I still love you so much it hurts.

I'm still in love with you.
And that's okay.
I think about your hands
How they touch the light of day.

I'm still in love with you.
It hurts a bit.
I imagine your smile
What might be causing it.

I'm still in love with you.
I will be fine.
Yet I cannot help but think
What if you were still mine?

In you, I see something
It reminds me of peace.
Hands remain tangled,
After we’ve fallen asleep.

Forlorn figures fade
Faithlessly away.
And my faithful frettings
Found moorings in faraway fields today.

In you, I feel something
It reminds me of warmth.
If ever you need flour,
Please knock at my door.

Ancient ancillary angels
Are visiting me now.
And my divine daydreams
Discover a home in delightful dallying about.

In you, I find something.
It reminds me of love.
Mayhaps it’s too hackneyed
But it feels blessed; from above.

When I grow old, I shall put seven cents in my pocket and give it to strangers.

I shall embark upon a journey and peddle soft, warm words that fill empty bellies and soothe tattered psyches.

I shall set up a travelling stand where the only currency we accept is memories, used and reused and sold bottled up fresh in old cans of soda.

I shall become known and unknown, even unknowable as I weave my way through threadbare mountains and ribboning streams and sing gentle songs with whatever words you’d like to hear.

I shall collect river rocks, smoothed with time and ancient expressions which I will attempt, futilely, to divine.

I shall carry all of my compliments in the stitches of my shawl and discard the insults on the ground, crumpled bits of refuse decaying in my wake, then pull my garment ever tighter such that the cruel litter may not reach me at all.

When I grow old, I shall find seven cents in my pocket given to me by a stranger.

The happiness falls like rain
Only to drip through my outstretched fingers
Turning to the inevitable, inimical, immutable mud of you.

I dredge through this monotony so often that it becomes routine
The muck which traps me so wholly feels natural
It flows like a river.

And then I remember you and I am frozen
The boulders which obstruct my path double in size
And I slip beneath your filth.

I watched the roofs of the buildings
The turrets, spiraling
Fresh August.

I closed the window
The noise, overwhelming
Metallic singing.

I lay in the bed
The city, wailing
Blanketed shouting.

I woke in the morning
The ground, sinking
Unstable standing.

I have built unto you an empire,
Do not leave, I entreat;
Stay here for still longer.

These halls which I have made,
Dwell in them, I beg;
Remain here for some while.

I have built unto you a castle,
Do not depart; I urge;
Live here for such time.

These turrets which I have drawn,
Linger upon them, I beseech;
Rest here for this spell.

do you remember the music?
cavernous halls swallowing us whole
i watched as the dancers climbed to the heights
the peaks, the sorrows of man which dwelt among us.

do you remember the feeling?
sonorous sensations surrounding us completely
i heard as the echoing sentiments sang so sweetly
the swells, the careful connections forged between us.

do you remember the music?
it is raging, the river, it is rising and we are together
we are together, we cannot be separated and here we are
sharing this moment sharing this time feverishly preparing
crescendoing into glorious, exalting infinity!

and now it is over.

but do you remember the music?

Nineteen revels at nineteen!
First, how can I be so old?
Second, how can I be so young?
And how can I possibly navigate the world?
Fourth, what if my inside doesn't match my outside?
Fifth, how do I ask for wisdom?
Sixth, not a question, but an enunciation: I am beautiful!
But what if I'm not beautiful?
Eighth, remember when I was eight?
Ninth, I'm not sure I do. But maybe I do.
Tenth, the next decade is coming for me soon!
Eleventh, I rather dread it.
And how do I handle loss?
Thirteenth, is thirteen unlucky?
Fourteenth, it doesn't seem so.
Fifteenth, I am the same distance from fifteen as I am from twenty-three.
Sixteenth, I've only been driving for three years.
Seventeenth, I've only been driving for three years?
But I feel so capable!
Nineteenth subsection a. the world is so large, so unknowable, and that is scary.
Nineteenth subsection b. I will revel in it.

all it seems i can do
is focus on what wasn't
i didn't get to hold your hand or kiss you.

i wanted to watch you ski and hike the flatirons.
i wanted to meet your friends and family.
i wanted to last, at least for a little while.

all it seems i could do
was focus on what wasn't
i didn't get to take you out or touch your face.

i wanted to bring you to my mountains and tease you about yours.
i wanted to introduce you to my friends and family.
i wanted to last, at least for a little while.

all it seems i can do
is focus on what wasn't
i didn't get to tell you i love you or...

i didn't get to.

i just didn't get to.

do you remember when i asked if i could kiss you?
it felt like the time i stood on that rocky ledge and couldn’t jump into the water below because it seemed so high.

do you remember when i told you i like you?
it felt like the first time i rode that roller coaster and made it over the biggest hill (without throwing up, too!)

do you remember when i asked you to lunch?
it felt like the time i took a deep breath and got in that rickety old plane just to jump out of it and soar through the clouds.

do you remember?

i do.

This is a contract!!
Why won’t you give me my end of the bargain?
Make me feel loved, make me feel beautiful.
To you, what am I but a distraction from your stress?

This is a contract!!
Why did you even sign it?
Give me your time, give me your concern.
To you, what am I but a friend?

This is a contract!!
Why won’t you fulfill it?
Offer me your care, offer me your words.
To me, you are wonderful.

How I long to give in to the mortal pleasures of the flesh,
Yet lusting for the release of the physical world I exist,
Paradoxically halted by my own humanity.

Am I this name, this face, this soul?
Is this body inseparable from me?
I look at my digits and exalt in their beauty, these vessels which carry me through life.

How I wish to ascend to the heights of consciousness,
Yet praying for the escape from this eternal solitude,
Perpetually stunted by my own humanness.

Am I this heart, this blood, this mind?
Are those people inseparable from me?
I look at their digits and exalt in their beauty, those vessels which carry us through life.

How fleeting, how trivial, how small everything is.
How permanent, how significant, how immense everything is to me.

i feel nothing, but in the best way.

the absence of artificial asinine archaic and endlessly echoing internal emotions.

all is well here, all is well here.

i feel nothing; no worry.

this peaceful presence propagating powerful pleasantries within a quiet mind.

all is well here, all is well here.

i feel nothing; no longing.

the first fantastical hiatus from forceful fateful phantoms gripping at the heart.

i feel nothing; no anger.

this incredible introspective break with inimical irate iterations intruding upon this space.

all is well here, all is well here.

i feel nothing, but in the best way.

I balance myself
   so delicately
on haves and have-nots.

"What do I have that you do not?"
      this gives me life; purpose.
I have done what you lack.

"What have you done that I have not?"
       and suddenly the world falls beneath my feet.
I am not so good as you anymore.

I balance myself
   so delicately
on haves and have-nots.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my lungs such that the air I breathe be holy?
O Lord, my Savior
May each shuddering breath be yours; Divine.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my throat such that the water I drink be wine?
O Lord, my Protector
May each desperate swallow be yours; Heaven.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my palms such that the ones I touch be angels?
O Lord, my Guide
May each careful stroke be yours; Blessed.

O Lord, my God
Would you consecrate my soul such that my deeds be pure?
O Lord, my Shepherd
May each deliberate act be yours; Transcendent.

Do you mind that I might seek you out?
I am not certain what this feeling is, this glowing fire that I have lit inside of myself.
Sometimes I hope that it might consume me entirely.
Yet I strike the match such that it burns just enough to pleasantly warm my thoughts.

Do you mind that I might think of you?
I am not certain why this feeling is, this divine light which I myself have cast upon you.
Sometimes I hope that it might fade into nothingness.
Yet I stoke the embers such that they may never turn cold.

Do you mind that I might wonder about you?
I am not certain how this feeling is, this burning sun which sets often and not at all.
Sometimes I hope that it may warm you as it does me.
Yet I stare into the flames such that they begin to fade without my intervention.

Here we lay, victims to a divine and unyielding power.
Yet in another land it is I who stands on the precipice.
I do not fear, I do not love, I do not long in this, my creation.

Here I lay, at peace in a world of my own making.
I may finally ascribe divinity to myself.
I do not hide, I do not reach, I do not withhold in this, my creation.

O, come now my brothers.

Come weep at the river that I myself have dredged.

The toil, no, the fruit of my labor is borne.

Unto you all who may reap its rewards.

O, come now brothers.

Your sweet notes I hear, crying out.

Watch as I slice myself open.

And turn the river red with blood.

I sit at the base of a tree, and it is summer.

Here is gold streaming through the leaves, dappling the ground with sunspots.

I look past my boots into a pasture full of souls.

Here are Aesop's Fables by my side, drawing familiar faces close... or pushing them far.

I feel the warmth of this heaven before me.

Here are joys and tears and adventures both big and small.

I hear the sound of a river tangling and untangling itself among rocks and sediment.

Here is James Taylor reminding us that this old world must still be spinning 'round.

I know you are here with me, even though I do not know you well, I have not met you yet, and you are my best friend.

Here is my past and present and future, and I feel our first kiss and the secrets you kept safe and the night we lay on the rocks under the stars and the only time I remember you holding my hand and how loudly we sang in the car.

I will live here, I will die here.

Here is my happy place.

I wore my Sunday best,
I am ready to shed this year.

I bore sorrows through eyes as yet unharmed,
I know better now.

I learned love and love learned me,
Now we sit hand in hand... most days.

I put myself into a box,
I pulled myself out again.

I have enjoyed it all,
As time turns everything golden.

Am I doing you justice, o 18th year?

I was told that 19 is an incredible age to be.

Now I am on its precipice.

I think I will jump with both feet first.