every time my phone dings that chime I set,

our patterend steps have been
evenly paced
but sometimes i miss
a few, just so our hands won’t
graze
— a metronome
back and forth.

though I’d still steal
a glance from it: soft
fingers on keys, light wrist
on the right beat,
slender
palms fit
in my sweater sleeve.

wondering, how
quickly it can
thaw the frost in mine;
and before my boiling belly
boil over  
surrendering the
mistletoe nose;

how many are missing the same warmth I have yet to hold.

It started with a hello and ends with too much love that does still overflow.
we drove around our city while I had my arm around him.
and the sticky august air glued his skin to his shirt and him to my heart.
our metropolis had a hundred dusty stars above us; beside us; but mostly these stars were within me.
he was unaware of it all. But I, with overflowing courage did tell him.
and when i told him,
I understood that this simple love
cocooning  me;
that glowed
like a hundred suns;
that made him the Sun;
was felt from me to him -
and me
to him
only.

Dearest one to my heart,
you’re so far,
and I’ve forgotten what
the word warmth meant

Maybe you are  
the word warmth,

or maybe you are
the word silence

I talk to you,
but you don’t talk back

kiss me like the dawn
when the light of your sun touches the earth for the first time
when every single thing lights up and bursts into flames
burning bright tongues of fire and warmth into my heart
it showers the hills with orange, yellow light
waking everything up
as if breathing life into them once more
i'll love you even if my moon has a dark side you'll never reach
i'll love you even if when i am awake, you are off to sleep
i'll love you even if the only times our fingers touch
is when the world silences
as it watches the eclipse

kiss me like the dawn.

i have taken
your sweater
that was in the closet

and which
you were probably
ready to wear

forgive me
its comfort was hugging me so tightly
giving me warmth

im sorry
for i have been yearning for warmth
and now you're cold
so very cold

you have known a world
in which the world is nonexistent
and so you value every bug
and every bird
and comes across your windowsill
you hold them all close
and sing them to sleep

and yet, i continue to observe
that to have lived in death for so long
makes one so hungry for life,
so that even after a hundred lifetimes
of living-
you will maul and **** and tear apart
a thousand butterflies
and a million men
to run from the silence of the void

the warmth in your eyes explodes into fire
no, you refuse to die