somewhere between the lines
i messed up, don't know how
to go back, just laughing
hours ago faded to silence.
A dark cloud hangs over,
and I can't change the weather.

I float in the space between
his words and silence,
like sunlight stretched over a cracked sidewalk—
warm, but fractured.

We laugh across digital oceans,
my stories spilling like spilled ink
onto his quiet, unread shores.
He saves them, collects them,
a lighthouse for his eyes
while I drift, wondering
if I am only a ship he glances at,
not the ocean itself.

His voice is honey
that melts over stone,
but the stone feels like my chest,
dense, heavy, questioning.
I am fireflies in a jar—
glowing, contained,
beautiful but captured.

Couple videos and whispered nothings
tiptoe along the edges of intimacy,
yet when I ask,
“What are we?”
the echo comes back empty.
The space between us stretches—
a canyon with no bridge,
yet I lean,
hoping for hands to hold the rope.

I am more than the curve of my lips,
more than the warmth of my body.
I am a galaxy spinning,
brimming with colors he will never name,
and still, I orbit him,
halfway in love,
halfway alone.

I want to sink into love,
not float in the in-between,
but the tide keeps returning,
and I am caught
in the half-light of a situationship.

Old men sit
in plastic pink lawn chairs,
smoking cigarettes
halfway down our street.

Counting the cop cars that drive by,
One. Two. Three.

They laugh
with heads thrown back
and missing teeth

at little boys who
roll and play in shopping carts,
crashing-
One, Two, Three!

Little boys lay
in the space between
grey gravel road
and thirsty green grasses.

They laugh
with heads thrown back
and tiny white teeth.

I touch you in a place
most look past,
a place within reach.

It is within this place
I feel most alive.

The space between hearts,
the space between fingers,
interlocked, soft and slow.

No one really pays attention
to the space mid-heartbeat
only the beginning and the end
of palpation.

But here, I taste the air
and come to life.

It’s not heavy.
In fact, I am weightless.

But I feel it
in the hopes that you reciprocate.

No different than the space
between minutes,
simply ticking.

The world is not ours,
but that isn't a reason to be afraid.

When I think about you,
I visit this place,
not afraid to knock on your ribs,
with every intention
to exist closer to your heart

From far away we look so
So perfect
Unblemished
Nothing ever comes between us

Until you see us at home
So petty
Our bickering
Anything could come between us