My garden grows only beetroot,
They're all shaped like little hearts.
All got stolen by someone cute,
Outmanoeuvred all the guards.

But it is fine, she can keep them,
She can take all the heartbeet.
Her smile is like a little gem,
Just for her does my heart beat!

Beat
(still)
Beat
(still)
Listen—
Can you hear it?
Life.
From nothing.

Pause—
sit
within
the
emptiness.

Let
it
become
the
bea­t
and
the
(still)

Eyes, wide with wonder.
A heart beats
to the rhythm
of tiny,
pitter-patter feet.

Beat
(still)
Beat
(still)
Listen—
Can you hear it?
Life.
From everything.

Sometimes I feel
like I have so much to say to you
but you're not in my life yet.

I trust one day
you'll hear my words
not with your ears
but in your mind
and find your way to me
not by accident
but by the design
of the Causer of Causes.

When that day comes
I won't need words
I'll just hold you so tight
you'll hear every unspoken thought
through the silence
of my heartbeat.

I love you too the moon and back
Which is every pump of my heart
Every pulse on my neck
All the blood in my body
Every single individual red blood cell
He said

I love you
You and only you
The beats of my heart are yours
Every pulse of my wrist
Every millisecond
Every Nanobeat of my life is yours
Yours and only yours
I said

In the hush between heartbeats,
I hear the echo of your laughter
a memory not yet made.

You, a whisper in the wind,
me, chasing shadows of a smile.

If you feel this too,
leave a word behind
let’s write our story together.

The city slept, waiting for dawn.
Shopwindows and houses wholly slept.
The moon and me were wandering lonely,
Two sad loners being night windswept.

Nothing will flurry, nobody'll bother.
The night is dark and quiet awesome.
The wind repeats the heartbeat in lockstep.
I'm not in full. It seems I've lost some.

I'm shuffling and the moon is nearby.
I am sick out of this hellish pain.
That night I parted with me in whole,
That me, who forgave with no refrain.

Every night, after everything that happens during the day,
I want to fall asleep holding your hand on my chest—
sometimes smelling it, sometimes kissing it.

And eventually, at the end of my life,
I want to die this way:
holding your hand on my chest
as you feel my last heartbeat.

Try living in paradise

Still recovering from trauma

Thinking about the ones left behind



Feeling sun on brown skin

While buildings burn down

Today was like any other



Enjoying cool ocean waters

While salt washes festering wounds

Fresh flesh like grapefruit is pink



Looking to the distant stars

Trampling on growing daisies

Only to lay in a field of them



Howling loud at worship

While fearing the whites of saved eyes

Lift every voice and sing



To dance and to be joyful

While quakes lulls sleeping babies

When the dust settles what remains