flights of fancywhen you say those wordsand I turn to you and smile like a village idiot finally left unrestrainedwho lost herself and stumbled upon amad magician who can makeeverything okay againflights of love

you’refabulously foolishassured of myeagerness to please youbasking in mywillingness to obey youconvinced by myconstant submission to youif only you knewI do it because it amuses me

I lost you – I don’t knowhow it happenedor when it happenedwalking along life’s roadsomewhere, you slipped pastme, disappeared in the distanceI find myself left with only memories:your face, the feel of your hands, your scent that even now lingers around meelusive, the memories, like water slidingagainst water; elusive, these memories, likepictures floating by in a storm, half submergedand ...

not being a loverdoesn’t mean youmust be a strangeryou don’t need to drive that knifethrough my gut

once we wantedtattoos togethersomething about pain and pleasuretell me, will you comeget one with me now?something about Christmas weathermakes me want toforget foreversall I want is for us to get inked now

no, I will notleave you;not yetyou are stilltoo lovelyto leave

you give me heart-leaves – not flowers, no bouquets;and I love every offering

likecatchingfireflies in nets:I catch words from you;treasure them like a fool

you and I:we laugh a little much,a little too earlysomeone’s going to have to cry:you or I?

you say you want me towrite you poetryI want to write on youwith my fingershave my words imprintedforever on your skinand tattooed behind your eyesclaiming ownership of your hearttell me if you still wantpoetry from me

who am I kidding?I am not forgettingI am only learning to let go

and you, you play your gamewhile I, I wait in vainthat time you said you loved meall I heard was that ‘d’

don’t sit theretelling me not to let anyone steal my smile

and slowlyrealization dawnsthat I am forgetting youwhen I am able to do this:delete every single message;saving nothing, erasing memories

if we are no longerdebating thismagicand our argumentis essentiallylogisticsyou know we willnever get offground

the moth,seeing lightreflected inthe water,dived, died.but I, seeingthe light in your eyes,dare not look,let alone dive

and I love you most because youlove my scars

I have alwaysloved you too muchwatched you too muchand wanted you too muchyou breathe life into me andI fight to breathe when you go

we’re in a box; this box is us:no, don’t rush to imaginelimits, walls, boundaries; orclipped-wing-flightlessness;restrictions, rules, racism; ornationality, skin-hue, accents;categories, classes and cages;this box is a lovely surprise oflimitlessness, imprisonment;freedom lined with fences;disappearances, reappearances, disappointments, then delight;the universe in, the universe out;this box is us; this box is love. ...

sometimesyou kiss me whenyou think I am asleepit’s all I can do not to weepsometimes with joy and then,sometimes with unbearable grief