crawl in and pull the shadows close.
i listen to the perfect echoes,
the thunder of your blood and bones;
it’s here i find the secrets
that keep storms away.
that moment you see that Joseph Gordon-Levitt announces your tiny story is being turned into a film for the hitRECord TV show.
*awkward celebratory dance*
we will find old oceans
dark and deep and sun-lined
where we breathe
we feel (everything)
as the waves leave
their marks on us
and through us
the earth will know
the meaning of love.
we keep still. adolescent gods
of skin and splendor and dewy oak
counting the worlds we will conquer
once our wings grow. and softly
you say that eternity is somewhere here
in the moonlight and air, that it could be ours
if i would just lean in close and take it.
- the dust dances too
this orbit of atoms, yours and mine,
pulses and electrical patterns
(there are suns less bright than this)
the verses we write when we run
arms spread and winged,
leaving traces of light behind.
how do i show my love with these lungs?
the whispers of calloused words
and clumsy lips
can move the sea
(and light heaven)
there is a rhythm we share,
perfect and flawed,
a way we love and breathe,
as if we are both gods and animals.
-the dust dances too
i write with horizons,
and burning skies.
what a dangerous place this,
what i have carved
a whisper in your hand, a kiss,
it is all i have to give.
— the dust dances too