have i ever told you how your music sounds
-on soft sunday september mornings?
my apologies.

i imagine the world wakes up,
and expects there to be soft frost on the windows.
in reality, the leaves have barely begun to turn sunset colored.

we play soft jazz, something like, and waltz around the room.
we wrap our hair above our heads,
watching it droop ever so slightly until it’s puff is silken soft and messy.

and wait, until it comes time to run to school,
in those sweaters and jackets, to feel so a part of life,
jumping and dancing on cold aluminum bleachers.

the strangest thing is that i feel so close to you
-we can become the girls of dances and games and skates,
highschool sweethearts.

idly, i wonder if this strange sunday september morning
has made me wonder this,
because the music that plays in my ears seems to say yes.

it’s an ode to these girls of legend, the ones we define our lives by,
come together to watch, and slowly,
dance to the music and twirl.

also, did i mention, it’s a little dark,
because those sun rays i used to so love have truly run out and become outdated,
and the music becomes slower and turns into bright friday night lights in the dark.

Her glowing silver hand,
Grasping desperately at

Shreds of brocade silk,
Glittering in the moonlight

Disappearing into the moonlight

now, i am so tired.
the sun’s rays have stretched and became the evening,
as today ends.

and, oh, today, i’ve done so many things.
today, when the day began, when it was night,
i fell in love and confessed. and then you answered.

today, i was hopeful. today, we are hopeful.
but as the shadows come out,
i feel tired.

i feel this longing,
to crawl into bed,
this longing to absorbed beneath the shadows.

and you’d come, if you wanted.
wherever you wanted,
that’d be fine.

today we became something,
and as this day ends,
i wonder what we’ll be tomorrow.

but against all odds,
against this world.
i think we’ll be something.

and i sleep with that knowledge,
tucked into my heart,
a note against my chest.

long time no see,
sweetheart.
i’m not sure if i’ll say that to your face.

this day, i’ve been elated and terrified,
then hopeful, and wondering, and odd,
now tired but weary but happy. sure.

how will we ever go home again?
me and you, we’re doing things they’d think us crazy for,
things i think myself crazy for.

but i have no regrets about you.
i’m glad you know,
and i’m going crazy.

loving you is like mapping stars,
tracing constellation after constellation,
never wanting to finish.

loving you is like soft whispers,
persistent, underlying my heart,
my heartbeats and breath and smile.

loving you is my hands shaking at times,
softly trembling,
touching the air with gentle taps.

loving you is like dance,
feeling the lights warm your skin -letting the glow cover you,
and being a diamond -allowing your heart to lay you out.

loving you is like the stage
because you’ve never felt an energy like this,
never let it consume you.

loving you is hope,
trust that we’ll be something great,
trust in fever dreams and laid out plans.

loving you is like sleepless nights,
because we’re moving and moving,
too busy dreaming to stop.

loving you is like a story,
sleepless nights and coffee and pacing,
thumbing through pages until you fall asleep on your keyboard.

this is what loving you is like.