The dank warm air stirs,
I hear sound echoing,

Moving towards me
Or am I moving towards it?

Dim light, tunnels of trees;
I am deep into the unfamiliar.

What is that sound
Vibrating through me?

Is it moving towards me,
Or am I moving into it?

An uneasiness moves
Up my body.  My blood

Is pumping, flushing me.
That sound engulfs me.

The echoes stir and I realize
It is my own heart.

Eloquence has little worth in the steaming hearth;
Where the ropes coil and knuckles crack from the strain.
Others set themselves free and pirouette in the stream
Because they don't carry the ballast on their feet;
Their tongue;
Their nerve.

I can't think of a reason why I love you,
But I think that's exactly why I do.  
I'm not sure how something could be,
Certain yet so uncertain simultaneously.

... I'm willing to silence all but one question to walk with you.

             Will you hold my hand?

Your serpentine grin is home to beacons of light that freely cascade beyond the skies of my iris.
Blinded, I am-

Harboring above the sedative call of
my name awaits the serene sting of your lips.
Lingering, for mine-

Your body desinigrates into the sands of time and I become the warmth of black silk sheets and the brisk breeze of a winter night.
Infatuated, we are-

A risk is being able to do what you want
even when you know every single consequence.

A risk is climbing a latter
when its only a rope.

A risk is believing in yourself enough to say "I did it!"
even when you're only half way there.

A risk is ducking in the shadows
knowing you'll get caught.


A risk is keeping a promise
when everyone is doing everything they can to break it.

A risk is keeping an open mind while still staying determined.

A risk is NOT waking up everyday and saying "I can and will do this".

That is determination

Determination is waking up every single day and saying "I was meant to do this"

if your hands were there,
I would hold them.

if I could just back up off
this ledge
and look you in the eye.

To contain oneself
  while inside you are
    completely free

Is only one half
of this obtrusive puzzle

To hold in your mind
   a solution you can
     actually feel

Is all of risk
but wholly in your hands

You hate when I stare--
Those long, unwavering looks that let me feel like I’m touching your soul,
they’re my favorites.
But you don’t get it…
Don’t get that I’m marveling at you
Your words, your mind, your gestures,
The way your lips melt into your cheeks
and your eyelashes curl so far they touch your skin,
or how your entire face softens when you smile.
I’m memorizing you:
Line by nose,
curve by smile.

I stare because I want to hold your waist,
to touch your arm,
to feel your hand around my shoulder.
I stare because I’m dying.

What is it now?
Is my love too strong?
Do I expect too much?
Have you forgotten about me again?
It feels that way…

As I crave the warmth of your remembrance
someone else has caught your smile
and I have slipped your mind.
It’s understandable, really—
Or can I be so understanding?

You are it for me.

I wake from dreams about you only to curl into the cool, crisp spot where you should be lying in my bed.
I eat breakfast and wonder what you’re doing;
I listen to music to ponder how you feel.
When I’m upset yours is the first number I want to call
and my delight is yours to share.

You have the power to move and remove me
because I will always fall into you and yours.
There is so much to say…
But sometimes I just stare;
I stare because I’m dying.