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

“because you aren’t afraid to kiss the dirt
(and consequently dare to climb the sky)”

—   e.e. cummings

if there is a death for me
it is here, in hearts and arms
(the love we touch)
i can hear the tremor
of your life so softly



that shiver
you passed along,
waves
on empty ridges of skin.
come soul, kiss another,
we’re mortal
let us remember
the meaning

there is a longing
to discover you,
each secret and scar;
to explore infinity.

the warm knowledge of proximity,
i shut my eyes
to be closer—
to your music, your thoughts.
the world has a heartbeat
and you,
a universe.

our color is the center of the earth—
warm and red, igniting upwards.
we wake the night of its dark chill
we shake the birds from their trees.
this is our breath and
this is how we pass it between
each other’s lips.

light collapsing
into me, oceans
of suns.
i am alive
and with you,
in my arms
a delicate star.

without feathers we fell.
there were notions
of grandeur
once, of feasts
of love
and blazing light
but the earth shifted.
we lay 
the perfect sighs down
and stars above, we made
in the dust
a temporary home or fort
of blankets
from the skin we shed.
and now, a horizon flame.
it is time to kiss and ascend.

"where are you?" she asked.
"here," he said. "where are you?"
"here," she said.
"then we are together," he said.

delicate beginnings
terrifying and perfect;
how my fingers trace Orion.

(i knew nothing of stars
until i knew you)