You look so handsome in the sweater you’re trying on,
and,
for a moment,
I look at you and smile my great big smile.
(However you become uncomfortable),
and ask me,
“what?”
because you do not understand it. (like he did)

I tell you,
that I am sad,
and what I really mean is
“I’m absolutely falling apart”
and you,
simply ask,
“What’s up?”
as though it is that simple..

Day 7,
of starting university,
I tell you it is hard
and you,
not knowing the depth of my problems,
make a joke about how hard your day off was.

You do not know an inch of me.
You do not know what my heart sings,
or what it longs for.
And if,
I let you in,
You would but look through the window,
and you would ask,
to see no more.

I love you,
But,
you do not know it yet.

tremulously,
I sit by you,
greet you at a party,
push your glass of drink closer to you.

And sometimes my heart asks,
can i be closer to you?
Can i come over?
and we, us, ourselves, make things new?

We have been friends for so long.



I do not know,
how or when it started,
but this softening of my limbs,
this pinkening of lips,
this lowering of my dress,
comes more frequently now.

I do not remember,
when the blue green blue of your eyes became beautiful,
or your smile a magnet for my gaze
How when you indulge what I have to say my heart leaps,
dances,
chimes,
Then quietly puts itself away again.


You know me,
but I want you to know me like this.
I want you to know me in odds and ends
and under starlight or in warm sheets.

I want you to know me,
as I have started to know you.

that can never forget
that can never undo

I love you in a place that is warm, that is frilly
I love you in a place where it is eternally spring

The heart may cease to beat
The mind may soon forget..
But deep in my soul
in this place of eternal spring
lies your hands,
your eyes
the whispers of your very being -
safe in a place
that is never forgotten.

He is in love with questions
And the lilting world of words,
With the fabric of philosophy
And the taste of fresh ideas.

He is in love with the smell of green
And the shifting sands of dreams,
With the hunt for profound moments
And the hunger-lust for purpose.

He is in love with his books
And the zodiacs cross the planet,
With patterns of chain reactions
And the way we cog and gear.

He is in love with pools of stardust
And fanciful notions of theory,
With darkness, deep and coveted
And the fabric it is made from.

He is in love with one who left
And the poisoned past he bathes in,
With being perpetually lonesome
And floating twixt life’s sabulous banks.

He is in love with memories, and the universe,
And nobody else.

With my choking heart, I’m grasping at dust,
And I am in love with him.

Looking at her in the rear-view
mirror; the hero never looks back
at the explosion; the destruction
of ***** because, honestly, everyone
wants to ***** and ***** and *****.

Her edifice crumbled to the ground
like so many great empires. She thought
her romance was Rome; I put roam in romance
and like Nero, I played music while her cities
burned.