You are sun and I am moon.
I'll let you shine throughout the day,
But let me glimmer at night.
And on rare occasions,
let us align
and the world will
stare in awe of our eclipse.

In another universe, only the two of us can fly 500 ft above the ground and under an old Amaranth tree is where we first said, "I love you"

We learned to drive together.  We spent time driving to see each other even just for one night. We never minded the radio station static.

My parents were not strict. I stayed all night at the bar, took cheap shots of brandy. You held my hand like it'll be the last.

In this universe, you never got tired of me.  You loved me the whole time.

We never cursed each other that one night. It only took a minute to realize that it was stupid. We never forgot we loved each other.

Here, you never lied to me. You never kissed that girl. Neither of us knew what tears tasted like.

In this universe, darling, we stayed.

Trying to soak you up
forever ingrained in my brain.
Perhaps only for a moment,
But a permanent route.
Distracted as I graze
your solar eclipse eyes,
I'd stare into the sun
to feel that way again.

Not much of a poet
but with you I am an avalanche of words
waiting to be written in paper
and you just sit there,
unaware of the effect
you have on my spine.

You talked about the weather
and I am awed on the rarity that a
topic as mundane as the weather
can stimulate my already
shabby senses.

I am alienated from this feeling
until today.
It felt like home,
recognizable,
at ease,
simple,
without any motive to burn.

I love you.
You love her.
She loves him.
End of ******* story.

Someone will tell you
that she's seeing someone someday
and she's happy
and your hands will stop working.
You'll have to work hard to hold
onto whatever you're holding.
I hope it's not glass,
I hope it's not breakable.

Suddenly you'll remember
everything that you ever loved about her.
Everything that ever moved you to tears,
made your insides feel
like they were tying themselves into knots.
That she was loyal,
that she was open for you,
that she smiled against your mouth when you kissed.
That it felt easy,
like God had put the two of you
together deliberately,
like it had been the plan all along.

But for whatever reason,
you let her go
and you thought that
it was the right thing
and for a little while,
it felt like you knew exactly
what you were doing.
Except now all the parts of you
that touched her knows
that you're never going to be able
to touch her again
and that hurts.
Even your fingers are sad,
even your stomach is aching
from the loss of it all.

You're never going to get that again
and that's why your regret
looks like artwork
that would have been masterpiece
if you'd finished it.
Your regret
looks plucking flower  
before it's bloomed.

So maybe you'll call her
and you'll tell her that you miss her
and she'll sound gentle on the phone
but not in love with you anymore.
She'll say
"we happened and we were important
but you let me go,
I'm sorry,
but you let me go
and that's how you'll know"

- Azra. T

I don’t know how you are so familiar to me—or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before—in another time, a different place, some other existence