I’m counting the stars

Small ends of the universe

That shine in your eyes.

Life in a nutshell

is empty

We exist

trying to reach a moment of

pure imagination

of peaking happiness.

We do not.

Longing to regress to my
infantile years of simplicity.

Shortness of breath

You run to me

your teeth a touching

your body shakes

Fling your arms around me

cry deeply without reserve

winter nips at us

ignore it, hold yourself

in my arms while I 

hold you.

Every stone I carry

on my back, in my hands

is a story

of our last fight

the death of my greatest foe

(or perhaps friend?)

My first kiss, what a mistake

the songs of myself

weights of experience 

that keep my feet 

on the ground

I have this odd longing

to touch you.

even if we brush hands,

or your fingers skate across mine.

To know you exist.

We separated.

the stitches connecting us 

now frayed at the edge.

Vicarious bird
of the song
vicarious of the feeling
of the heart—
sound carrying the light
light carrying the dark
out of mourning
into the morning

It seems we go farther
when we don’t count steps 
or shorter when we don’t know how
some are small, considered one
others stretch past ourselves.
we are young-growing older
nearly growing old
yet we still takes steps
happy to have steps
to take. 

You said good-bye but

moments ago you gave me hello.

I caught you in my glancing eyes

yet it would be long until I crossed words with you.

You are gone now, far off from

sight.

I long to search your eyes 

for universes, spot constellations of your freckles.

Release my fingers from pockets and skate 

over your hands.

Lay on a hill at night and watch stars

creating our own worlds, or own

bits of life and death.

All I want again is to lace my skin to you,

hold us together for short seconds.

Escape reality with me, dream 

alive in our love.