sometimes when my brain is congested, it coughs, and words come out.

today was a color of sunlight
you’d want to paint your skin with.

revel in the worth of others,
so you can recognize the worth of yourself.

there is a part of my mind and soul
that pulls whenever
i open a book,
a need
and desire
to dive headfirst into the pages,
to plunge and drink and chew
on its words and ink,
to come out feeling (something)
like my skin
has been changed,
beautifully stained
by the story.

i like the world at dusk
when everything is buoyant
and a little bashful,
like the warm air between us
when we smile
and look away
waiting for fireflies
to speak.

i like how we find the moon tonight
and the pathways she leaves
and how we run
our toes through the grass
and again
ripples across a field
(traces of our existence);
as if we were discovering some secret
about love
that the whole world had missed.

they say that 
in the end
we will be a singularity,
that we will collapse
into each other,
into everything;
into nothing
but specks of light.

i hold you tonight. paper lanterns
above the tree line, scintillating and ascending;
incandescent suns passing through space

today i found a piece of paper i had forgotten about,
and inside its cracks and crinkles
there were words that used to mean something
to me.

the universe is infinite;
you can feel it
when you gaze into the light
and when you close your eyes.
there’s something beautiful
beyond the stars, worlds
we will never know,
and the same beneath.
perhaps you should be told again
the worth of what’s inside?
to press your hand to your skin
and feel it,
to know that you have always
deserved to be found;
and that even alone
you are absolute
and perfect.

ordinary breath
becomes something beautiful
when we share it.