to fill your sky with blue:

i want to be there when you realize
that dreams that have died need to
still receive water. there are still
buds left that have yet to flower.

.

and to be in your mind amidst your
memories and emotions is to me
like breathing in the stars above.
i want to be there when you realize

that if it is within the stars,
it is within you. and my every
world bends after you, swooning
rivers and forests. i'm learning

how to live and life is beautiful.
i'm learning how to love. i met the
ocean yesterday, as an equal, just
because i love you something terrible,

something more terrible than our
nocturnal sylvan anxieties. if you
ever feel hopeless, reckless or
desired, i'll collect your worries

in the palm of my hand and i'll
throw them onto a prototype planet.
and the second the sparks fly,
forests and rivers will stand up

like soldiers, and together we'll
build an earth twice the size with
twice the love, from the magma to
the dreamscapes to the infinite sky.

.

it's the tiny murmurings we share
under our breath, in passing, that
mean the most: the gentle way you
muttered, you can do no wrong;

and when i'm with you time and space
are negligible, and i know we are not
alone, and that the network of breath
and life could not exist without us.

and sometimes it flows like dynamite,
precious; slithering down towers blown
to smithereens, breathless semolina
toasted waterlilies with a hint of lie.

.

it could not begin. because all time
stops when we begin, and our eyes are
deflecting wishes everywhere. and
we kiss so well, we kiss so well,

and i can't stop thinking about how
your name looks in gold calligraphy.
haven't i always been the unconscious
author of your trial, your suffering?

and it's not always blue sky and
windchimes, sometimes it's nothing
really, something like an olfactory
hallucination, something like love.

this sounds like planets crashing to
the ground where they shatter into an
alphabet for us, but this doesn't sound
like an alphabet, it sounds like planets

crashing to the ground. like how the
shoreline calls the sea for company.
maybe you know. tell you everything?
what is anything? the edges of your eyes

are to me like falling sunsets, and when
we go, we twist sundials as we fall,
meaninglessly. have a good night and
take a deep breath, i'll always be here.