i read poetry in the morning
with chai, stains awoken
and i’d like to believe
i can remember at least one hundredth
of the photomemoirs i’ll make
walking home from science class today;
because that walk is all my heart sees
and my brain knows not
to see things how i would write them -  
.
then i noted the monarch butterflies
dancing to the tunes of their
pheromonic wingharp love unknown,
swiftly along colorful breezes;
when i walked home,
and then i felt this strange feeling -
there is too, a beauty in being alone

on sundays i'll be
blissful, laying on the carpet
singing the beatles

"when i think of love
as something new," laugh as i
cross the universe

and my lover
will be a
w
     i
         n
            d
                y
                 evening;
                              dreamdrift
(away from those old seashells, illuminating
milky starlight along a
f r a g m e n t e d
coastal memory)
                then blow life into my weary sails, tenderly

i'd like to
meet someone and
be weird with her :

clever texting
between classes, short-
sweet thoughtplumes, sent.
to you.

cheeks blush the reddest;
(if i were to peck
them, i think)
with romantic symmetry
when we talk to each other
           with giggles
           and curiosity

my keys clang and jingle like a bag of loose change
when i walk the hallways,
strangely loud, especially when i sit in a
quiet chair in a quiet classroom filled with quiet people,
it's musical
when class is dismissed
i like to fall asleep in my car with the drivers seat fully reclined,
people walk past, i think they smile,
i would too

half way through my run i forgot how to breathe
i also forgot how to forget,
about you
its been beading-
across my body's threshold, drenching
morning with whirls of
c a r d i o
spasms and poetic flux-
inhaling something new,
while exhaling
*the particles of memory

a
c  e  l  l
divides