Your pulse quickens.
Like a bird leaving a branch,
still wings beat a new rhythm.
And you soar.
Higher and higher you fly
until you reach heights
you believed were out of reach.
And all this from a kiss.
A simple touch of the lips,
and your caged heart woke to its prison
and demanded an escape.
Again and again you kissed,
beating against the iron of your cage.
You doubted you would ever succeed,
but still you tried.
Because her lips reminded you
of the open sky.
And this reminder
made you stronger
(click here to listen to me read the poem)
First kisses are magical because of everything that led up to them; the stars had to align to make this happen—destiny controlled our ever meeting. Second kisses and every kiss after are amazing because of everything we don’t let stop them; the stars be damned—I will control my destiny and make sure I touch those lips again.
i got sunburn and my skin’s peeling, exposing new skin. your leaving burnt my heart, and the layers are peeling back, exposing new love. who wants it?
Words CAN express.
You look up from the pages of your book,
and your brown hair falls in front of your eyes.
You tuck it behind your ear
as you describe how the characters
try and fail to find love.
I nod and say interesting,
but I barely hear one word you speak.
Something is happening to me.
It starts as a warm glow in my toes
and travels through my body
until my mind is overheated and shuts down.
Suddenly, I am just a pair of eyes seeing,
seeing something beautiful,
the only thing that is beautiful.
For a moment, you are all that is.
For a moment, you are all that has ever been.
Your eyes return to the book, and I remember:
from the perspective of the universe,
we are smaller than ants.
When we try to define our importance,
we realize we can’t.
But the moment we just shared…
as it took place, I forgot the universe.
We were the universe.
And from the perspective of two,
we were giants.
We were the reason for all things.
No one could ever convince me that that moment,
no matter how brief,
I’ve had a handful of such moments with you.
Together they add up to less than one minute—
nothing compared to the hours, days, and years
spent knowing that I am less than an ant.
But they are enough.
I live for the moments when I can forget I’m living.
I live for the moments with you.
(listen to me read the poem here)
Even when we’re far apart, we’re closer than most.