time changes everything
it demands ebb and flow
a murmur of birds
in red watercolors
bleeding like carnations
placed in broken vows
and broken hearts

the things I never tell you
end up turning into poems

like how your eyes say words
you don't know how to express

how I felt more in one night
than I've felt in twenty-five years

laying my head on your chest
with you reading softly to me

what I wrote about us, for us
voice shuddering in whispers

I think about love and life
how we get so few moments

of soul-shaking tenderness
of certainty in each other

I think about your tears and
how I am genuinely fearless

about everything except
the thought of losing you

on days like today
being with you is enough
(yet I crave you still)

feeling your arm
drape across me is enough
(yet I want you infinitely closer)

waking up slowly
to your sleepy smile is enough
(yet I hope to see a million more)

your breath, your body
your heart—all of it is enough
(even if I feel greedy for more)

you must know that I'd abandon
all the things that I chase after
(just to feel enough with you)

dreamlike our walk was,
slow steps with the setting sun

a neighborhood of beautiful houses,
a collection of old money

the purple, pink, white hydrangea,
crawling ivy against red brick

I felt it then⁠—the unfolding of time,
of your future and mine

you turned to me and said it's funny
how love can be so physical

you meant beyond intimacy,
the visceral pounding in our blood

the rush, the pull, the need
like echoes calling to each other

and I don't know if I believe in fate
but we walked aimlessly only to stumble

upon a doe, her brown coat striking
against solid, gray headstones

she made us smile, moving slowly,
a tender scene for us to witness

we watched her and then gasped
as a speckled fawn was uncovered

teetering hesitantly to its mother
then softly suckling for milk

an extraordinary sense of life
in an expansive plot built for death

unreal and yet there we were
breathless in disbelief and wonder

all of the things that had to align
for this one moment to occur

I don't know if I believe in fate
but I believe in the feeling of rightness

and on this day, we found meaning
while walking aimlessly, together

a deluge of words like:

youfeellikeeverything
Ihaveeverwanted
andthesungrows
warme­rnexttoyou
themoonbrighter
inyoureyesandI
shiverfromthebreathy
co­nfessionsyouwhisper
againstmytemperedlips
IthinkIcanseeitnow
your­smileinfiveyears
yourlaughterinten
thisemotionrooting
itselfinsid­emychest
howyouhavetouched
partsofmeIneverknew
neededlightandI
oh­IthinkIamfalling
fallingfallingfalling
intothecomfortofyou

I dreamt a morbid dream of my grandmother on her deathbed.

In my dream, she held my hand and said,

"I can only tell you about the happy moments in these 75 years. When it is all said and done, the only bolt in life is a love so voluminous that it overwhelms you."

I woke up, sharply, with a poignant pang in my chest.

she dreams of a feeling
feather-light floating

circular, orbital, a revolution
of aimless ambulation

in her palms, the world
dusted by light and warmth

a language of incantations,
an exchange of soft prayers

her very atoms awakening
flourishing in the existential