You share my blood, yet for so long
We never quite saw eye to eye.
You still grasped my hand and held it.
You never let go.
A twin, I suppose, is what you are.
A mirror image of me, a dream-self.
In a richer life. One full of lustrous adventures.
Marching down a cobblestone street;
Sipping sweet secrets in a foreign land;
Fighting the enemy, calling out in triumph.
Perhaps you are a lesson, maybe a vision.
One that beckons me to go further.
Calls to keep growing. Becoming.
For four fervent years
We have shared our hearts, every fiber of our soul
Has bled into each others veins.
And when the day comes, please know.

You’re the only one I need.
Running from the late night doubts,
You’re the arms I crave.
You;
A mellow, present cure
For my tentative, diamond heart.
Tell me you love me
Then stay.
Hold me, hear me, have me,
Then leave.
Tell me you love me and run.
Brush off your hands and hold me,
So I don’t run.
So I can’t hide.
Force me
To make up my mind,
To stay or break or mask,
To destroy or to flourish.
Hold my hand and run.
With me.
Home.

I never told you I would leave.
Us;
In an airplane over Russia;
Our feet slipping into skates too small;
Sipping a distinctive type of chai.
You know me too familiar.
When I shiver, so do you.
We speak in our own language,
One in which the light bends
From your sapphire eyes;
One in which we are twins.
We burn together.

in summer.
To be free.

<I love you in every transatlantic mile.>

i.
I imagine the lemon sun rays
Beaming on the fronts of my eyelids;
An illusion, an iridescent glow
Forms around my wandering mind.

Ii.
The careless waves floated in
An orange peculiar pattern.
I reach;
Calling the name of my prospect.

Iii.
A hollow echo, the end of a passage
revealed in the saturated aura;
Crimson tangerine amber cobalt indigo
bleeding into a soft ivory

Iv.
The days soon return their structure
Beckoning my name in the breeze
Opening my eyes from the somber dusk,
Unlocking the ebullience from the earth.

In summer;
A fever for the world.
A billion scarred shoes,
carry me over the sapphire waters.
Whisper through my hair, tell me I’m home.
Tell me through and through i belong to you.
Like a needle, I am thread;
Latching to you, your direction, your ways.
Write to me in different languages,
Beckon me to the cobblestone tower,
Up the verdant hills,
Among the gritty powdered paths.
As i overlook the cerulean waters,
I’ll spot the trifling sailboats,
Like ripples in a cup of tea.
Too vast for a photograph,
Too surreal for words.

A wayward, willowy girl.
An anomalous, alluring world.

We don’t have a name,
And our love isn’t something they write about.
I watch you scrawl some stains on a paper
As you tell me to go,
But I can’t.
I try to leave, but my molten feet stick to the floor.
The space between us is different from the others.
Am I a scribble in your black notebook?
Because your name is written countlessly,
In elegant, clear penmanship in mine.
But we aren’t that obvious and clear.
Our names aren’t printed on the latest newspaper,
To read all about.
Our hands don’t rush together in unison
When we walk down the sidewalk.
We survive through secrets,
Sending letters through underground cities.
We dance around the words of others,
As my mouth slowly meets yours.
We are a garden that ceased to exist,
But instead reversed..
You are a mystery,
Not in the typical manner.
You are not the one you can solve again and again;
But one that puzzles me every time.
You find me at midnight,
My hands are shaking, as I hold you, eyes bright.
Your palms are cold, thawed by the heat of your breath
And we sit.
Your peculiar eyes dazzle me.
It’s not an emerald green,
But the kind of green in a forest
Among an earl gray coast.
Nostalgic, but warm.
Rainy, but bright.
We are tenacious as one.
Through you I’ve lived a thousand lives;
Sipping pink lemonade in a rainy diner,
Standing on the Oregon coast,
The navy ocean biting at our feet and
Inviting us for an icy swim,
Chasing you down the Champs-Elysses,
Watching your eyes turn into London skies.
I’ve seen every bitter moment of your life,
From the bruises on your thighs,
To the thoughts you try so hard to bury away.
I love you from the faded buttons of your flannel
To the burning tips of your hair.

Please let us exist as one.

I was marching down the crowded avenue
When I realized my hair was covered in kerosene.

Eyes flash; memories appear.
Bitter lips and kisses just covered in lies.
I was as stainless as the flowers in my hair;
The ones you picked from the garden.
I was as passionate as the ocean;
Always coming back to kiss the shore.
A sweet love, a love as wonderful and
As vibrant as the floral perfume around my neck.
The same one that gave me a rash.

Once we held flashlights, escaping into
The dark and hollow night alone.
Two hearts ignited on fire.
But flashlights always run out of battery,
Right?
I breathe in the salty ocean air.
I detect traces of you.
A ratted baseball glove.
Faded mint soap.
Stale potato chips; always crushed.

Nights of March play over and over;
Leaving and leaving and lying.
You talk of
Nightmares of dead flowers, wasted love.
Dissolving all bonds of emotion.
All I can see are flames.

You held the knife,
But I was destined to burn.
I was holding the matches all along.