Wet tears against
White wall against
Warm cheek

Loose hands beside
Two people beside
Each other

Several stiff breaths
A few more steps

One stands
To say they
Can't stand them
Anymore

Against turns to beside
And slightly turned away

Enough to say it's over
But too little to miss the day

The other person walks forward
Not too far ahead
If you tried to you could reach them
but see, your hands are dead

Maybe you could catch them
Maybe we all could've

But directions find directions
And we were facing corners

We leave each other behind
And are left behind as well
We do it all the time
If only we could tell

That against turns to beside
And beside turns to far away
Further and further we drift
Until we return to clay

I love her the way the stars love the sun.
She is the brilliant light in my infinite universe,
Encouraging me to shine brighter myself.
Sometimes the space vacuum is cold or dark,
But we are lighting it up,
Together.

Now I can float with you
on dreams of possibilities
daring to hope again
for a season of light.
We are partners of the universe
in flight
not fright.

Dreams are made of possibilities
not of economics or hands
and bare-***** probabilities
but of living tissue
of heart.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss the blue uniform,
The oversized hoodies
And the black uniform shoes.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss sneaking in snacks in the bus,
And the food fights with my friends.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss the sports classes,
When we ran rounds together as punishments,
And made excuses to sit back.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss classes where we passed chits,
The times when we did last minute homeworks,
And covering up for your absence.

I miss the days I used to go to school,
I miss you, my friend,
I miss your presence,
And all our times together.

If I were a song, you had left at the stanza
Notes hung in the air like wingless butterflies
I wished for a caesura but the song came to an end
And all that was left is a

s i l e n t
r e v e r b e r a t i o n
o f
w h i t e  n o i s e

The curtains were drawn
But I still heard the flapping of wings
A strong and steady staccato
That perhaps existed only in my head

My heart yearns for the way
I feel in her presence,
For the candlelit warmth
And melted wax flowing over my soul
As it casts out this winter's dying embers.
My heart yearns for her heart
Like two strands longing to be coiled into rope,
Stronger together.
My skin longs for her softness,
For the gentle caress on valleys of skin.
My ears long for her 'I love you,'
And my mouth so desperately wants to say it back.
Sweet Love of mine, we are almost there.

You grace me with
lightness, bright mornings, cool breezes,
darkness, soft notes, flickering candle flames,
warmth from gentle sun's rays, highlighting text,
and the curve of your spine as you stretch across the sheets.

I have never known peace like this.
This is as true as my heart beating double-time to yours.

I spill words of trauma and loneliness,
of fear, and hate, and years of bottled
up bruises.
I know the stories I convey hurt you,
leave you speechless and unsure how to console me,
But I have never felt safe enough
To flood the world with these confessions
Before I met you.

Your palms apply pressure,
reassurance from an outstretched hand
to a simple ruffle of my hair,
and the empathy runs over from your eyes,
unable to fathom
a child taught respect by fire, threatened with severe burns to be molded, controlled, manipulated,
a child taught their worthlessness by begging for forgiveness,
rejected pleas leaving tear-stained innocence,
imprinting guilt far below just the superficial skin,
You ache for this pain of mine to dull and fade,
translated through the embrace of me into your time and space, mind and body.

I have never known love like this.
This is as true as your heart beating half-time to mine,
So why can't I tell you that I love you?

please marry me. please, oh my god, please marry me,
because i have feelings i need to bury in the backyard
of our really nice house on our quiet gated street. i can
give you slightly above average *** and you can give
me your arm around my waist, boring and boring and
steady, a nice "have you met my wife?" to round off
the pleasant evening. we're friends, we're friends, you
tell your stories to an adoring audience, but you're only
looking at me, and i draw the shape of your head over
and over, trying to get it right. we can be alright, isn't
that what we all want in the end? i can give you those
chubby hands, a gummy smile, through the bars of the
crib, and you can be the voice over in the first birthday
party home movie, the proof that it's not just me. i roll
over in the dark and my arm hits you and it's not just me.
and when you get too drunk i can be the stern hands on
the steering wheel of our sensible car, and when i get
too sad, you can help me fill out doctor's office forms.
relation: spouse. tell me we don't have to be in love. i
don't want to be in love, i want the beige place mats, the
suburban nothing, the pb&j cut into triangles, a life of
april tuesdays. we can get a ****** golden retriever and
make our baby wear one of those flower headbands from
etsy and you can say, "i don't think you've met my wife,"
and when i roll over in the dark, you'll be there, boring boring steady, and
we can be alright.

It seems I missed the opportunity to wish you, a "Goodnight, Pleasant Dreams", my dear.
   Many would say a small thing as Things go. What with the Trumpet blaring out "I Love You" and the Bassoons low mournful note of "Goodbye",  and in between, the blazing Pinions of love's "Do or Die".
   But here is a Home!!  This thing made of Stone and Brick, Trees cut to fit.  Call them Love, Faith, Charity and most crucial Hope.
      This small profound edifice is held together by the Mortar(Good morning, Beautiful. How are you today) and Lathe ( let's do this together. Can I do anything for you?  May I ease your burden My Dear. How can I Help.) And the Nails of Iron and the Glue that Binds( Good night.  And Peaceful Dreams, Sleep here in my arms.).  It's all these little things that hold it together. The Constant Work that Love Engenders in one another to Build Together. That Proclaim Quietly but Resoundingly, One Moment to the next, Day upon Day, Month to Month, and Year after year, that We are Companions in this Life. That I will not forget that My Friend is with me and to always Undertake for the best for My Helpmate.
    That is the bedrock upon which  Love of each other and all the rest is built.
  And so,when all the nourishment I want is in front of me.. Your mind... With all your Hopes and Dreams, Fears and desires, your Passion and your Apathy, your Great Strengths and your small Limitations!!!    
       All the memories we created together. When seen through your eyes The perspective and light, have changed all I see, as if for the first time.
    You and our first kiss, Discovering in ourselves each other. That is what it is about. Learning where we fit together like a pair of double doors that had been used individually in different houses.
     The years apart gave us different wear and an admixture strength and weakness.  A Fine smoothed finish polished by countless hands, yet Rough here or there, where kicked open or the small crack from when we stood firm against those of Ill repute who used without care.
       But when finally brought to the others side, Its obvious they were made to fit together from the start, that this is where each belongs.  Supporting one another and facing the world, Side by Side.
    To our Friends. ALL-WAYS  Open an our Ownself.., we allow our selves the privilege of accepting that we all have flaws and own is that we Dont deny ours.
Remember that while we apart gained and lost and so did they.  If you look we might need some sanding here or there. A bit of planing and joined in a couple spots. But .. We were always for eachother. Made to stand together each fiting the other a left and a right the same in their differences..complimet.
             - Alexander Hamilton 2018