My life is made of paper memories
Connected by dust motes,
Eclipsed in tiny dates,
Strung across the sky.
Burning at the edges
Because it refuses to rain.

The soaked windows
Just remind me I’m blazing,
Perpetual melodies mixing,
Strangling me with their complexity.

Only the night knows of the stars like me
Staring at the Polaroids suspended from the clouds.
Between you and I,
I haven’t really stopped gasping for fantasy.
I live lungs deep in sleeping,
Only stage one of waking up.

With eyes closed I see your shoes,
Matching mine
Mouth hiding behind freshly cut sunshine
Protected like a smuggled dove in your hands

All my breaths are made of
Other people’s words,
Melting into shapes
To smear into my heavens.
Holding firmly in place by my temples,
A creature of me.

One day you’ll grow human, but
For now I’ll be drifting,
Playing with sails
Like old rolling grass.

Someday you’ll see me outside this window,
Curtained by rain
I’ll be flowing between the pages,
Waving at your smoke,
Camera in hand
Hanging up our pictures.