i love how tightly you hold onto me at night– (as if i would leave.)
i love how tightly you hold onto me at night– (as if i would leave.)
the volumes that you communicate without re- sponding: infinite.
i love you most for your belief in magical beauty abounding.
timelessness emerges existing next to you. a span of hours, days– one tender moment folded into lifetimes spent chasing shadows and resurrecting structures. mapping this careful framework entrusted to none but ourselves. the understated pageantry of a life unfolding small moments witnessed– all access granted to the one whose willingness to engage is unsurpassed. …
you are not in love with me– or you certainly don’t desire to be.
always i tumble into the tumult– only to find my way through.
i don’t need to take pictures– your fluid image emblazoned in my mind feet gliding above the sand hands blossoming a golden lotus. this seamless stretch of time away from existing structures– free to explore new contours find new lines in the curves of our faces. a deepening– realizing– acknowledging of what is and …
there are poems in my bones words woven through and around the sinews of my muscles– verbose tendons and loquacious ligaments. phrases which will their way to my mind– narrating an unfolding pathway– letters, lit up like lamp posts along a winding stretch familiar monuments, comforting sentiments, breeding ease– an allowance; cultivating breath …
what happens when you take away your reaction? is there nothing left?
there’s no mystery to your magic– it is felt by all those you touch.
the edges of myself 