When I was younger, my biggest desire was to travel.
Dreaming of swimming with dolphins in the Amazon River.
Dreaming of floating away to the Niagara Falls.
Dreaming of running all of the United States.
Dreaming bigger dreams than Martin Luther King, Jr could ever.
Maybe even go away in a hot air balloon until boredom struck.
See the highest peaks of the Earth, maybe until I’ve reached the gates of Heaven.
Have brunch with the President of the United States, or with a beggar I come across with on my journeys.
When I was younger, my wishes were beyond my reach
God’s angels seemed closer than my dreams could ever be.
And so, I made contact with one of God’s angels, as I floated on the cloud of my imagination.
This angel had brown eyes; hair fell perfectly every time
Perfection came to this angel without ever trying.
I fell for this angel faster than Lucifer fell from the glory of God, it was so unplanned and perfect.
Unplanned and perfect.
That was this angel’s method to everything in life:
Unplanned. Perfect.
Everything he did was unplanned and perfect.
It was… spontaneous.
He was spontaneous.
He was perfect.
The way he didn’t think about anything too much, and just did everything. Only thinking about things twice – or so it seemed. The way he didn’t have a planning sheet for life, he just wrote whatever came to his mind, like me. Except he didn’t write, he acted upon his thoughts. I literally write everything that comes to mind. But this angel? He acted. The finest actor that ever descended from Heaven.
Now, the perfection of his beauty leaves me speechless every time, making me a mime of some sort. The perfection of his beauty is marvelous, I just don’t know how to put it into words. All I can say is that, with this angel I’ve fallen for, I am somehow satisfied. Somehow, all the dreams I’ve been yearning for so long are brought to life at last.
The words he speaks flow perfectly - I promise you, I could swim in them. The ease of his tone makes me feel like I’m swimming in the Niagara Falls. Oh, and that laugh is so sweet and just as cute as the dolphins in that Amazon River I had wished to swim with.
He makes me feel like I’m running more than just the United States of America. This amazing angel gives me an adrenaline rush… I could run miles and miles. To him. To hug him. To kiss him. To get high off of his touch and feel oblivious.
God sent me the best transportation to the Gates of Heaven.
And this transportation is the most spontaneous and perfect.
This spontaneous piece of perfection is the best adventure, and I’m so ready to have brunch every day with that marvelous angel God sent.

There are some things very satisfying, laying down in a tub

Feeling the hard wet surface bear you
lingering warmth taken slowly as
edges again sharpen

Listening to the shower head drip
with out rhythm until the faucet opens
expelling water in the pipe
between the two

Watching a drop on the thin metal rim idle
waiting for solidarity to fall free
echoing through it’s enamel cask
to it’s end

Hide your scars
away from my lips
and maybe
illness will save us from past

Hide your lips
from my fire mouth
and maybe
we'll meet in the entrance of love

Hide your legs
from my one-thousand-eyes
and maybe
the end will take us
to the awakeness
or the misery
of being
two
sparks
of
divinity.

Hide your shame
into my chest
and i promise my love
i'll keep it safe
and clear
and pure

Hide anything
but
your
soul.

I'm a pawn on your board,
A piece in your game,
But with eclectic pulses,
It's never quite the same.

If you've ever tried a melon,
You'll taste the sour souls,
All around the auburn flames,
And filled with solid holes.

The angels speak of falling,
Of going down the drain,
And all around the crystal light,
You'll always go insane.

Coherence is all relative,
All time has gone away,
Shapes will twist the life out of you,
And your mind has gone astray.

Emma Watson without question is the most amazing woman that has ever existed.

I have your (our) CD on my walkman
It's playing
all our fears and regrets
all our promises and dreams
It's playing the past
before people left
before we left
before everything
started to change.

You explode on impact. The dying wait for your return. The masses covered in body parts and blood. The resting place for an eternal sunshine. It crawls up your spine, and whispers down your ear. You refuse to listen, but they still won't give up. You won't give in. If blood is what they want, blood is what they'll get. It dwells from within. A star explodes and then all went dim.

lettuce forget just for
two hours that we just
met and really you could
be anyone, and lettuce
sustain our teenage
stereotypes, nourish them
with our shared saliva
by the fire -
we are cold and soft
like snow and we are
happy to share our
lizard tongues and lizard brains,
our foolish young
emotions firework in our skulls,
ricocheting against the walls.
sparks.

earlier i watched snow drift down
the chimney,
slowly melt, while ash
was propelled back up
by hot air:
neither sustained for long
in new environments, in foreign
air;
similar up-and-down particles
which i watched while
our hot sweaty hands lay open
like flower petals,
at our sides waiting.
someone had to move
(i did),
petals clasped together and
i noticed the warmth and roughness
of your hands.

i smiled and continued
to watch the flames.