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

“i love you with claws
and lungs, a longing
to tear open the sky
to feel against me warmth
(your shade and color)
to be burned by
that beautiful quality
of light.”

“to create cosmos from chaos;
this is why we write and breathe and love.”

i think i’ve found a place,
a somewhere in the dark feathers of the night
and dewy light of stars between our toes and on our lips,
(are we in this world, or another?) the wild and beautiful,
perchance we’ll stay here forever,
or fly away.

- the dust dances too

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.

- thedustdancestoo

don’t forget,
our skin 
and bones
are living
memories.

- the dust dances too

“and here, with you, i wonder if we have the power to control weather. or waves. to mold patterns and movements and air with our hands and our lips. we are unpredictable and destructive and perfect (aren’t we?). i wonder if we might be deities, or just children— lost and aimless, swept away and clinging to each other. hoping. dreaming. touching nature and praying for something beautiful.”

we will find old oceans
dark and deep and sun-lined
where we breathe
together
pressed against
we feel (everything)
as the waves leave
their marks on us 
and through us
the earth will know
the meaning of love.

- the dust dances too

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.

- thedustdancestoo

how do i show my love with these lungs?
imperfect, quivering.
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