The funny thing is
We are afraid to know the extent.
How scary would it be to know that the universe’s boundaries.
We take comfort.
Comfort in that it’s not on our shoulders.
To know where it ends.
To know the extent.

And in this way,
Is Love not the same?

A love of mine smelled like
Summertime Strawberries
In the middle of fall.

I’ve got these worn clotheslines
and street wires humming across my brain

in cold winters chill you told me I was eloquent
but I still cannot seem to remember your name

I stopped smoking to make room for you in my lungs
You didn't find that suitable enough so you left

We are the same person if your bed
has held more people in it than your heart

I see this warmth of a summer day
but I can never know the touch of it on my skin

I wonder what it feels like to be kissed by the sky
Probably kind of like kissing

**you