The anxiety of falling in love could only find repose in bed.
– Gabriel Garcia Marquez –
when we said yes (or, roads taken)…
Afterwards.
We lay like that for a time. It should have been awkward but each breath was… simple. Quiet. And this stillness brought with it a calm, a terrifying calm. Each freckle, each edge of stubble, each bead of sweat still shining on his forehead was a beacon to something I’d never seen before – a storm inside me I’d left for others to read about in some story, long ago left dusty on a shelf. But here, now: each breath softened hard edges, drawing us closer, revealing a fit I never knew possible.
it all cums down…
L
L
L
L
L
It all comes down
to very little,
but that very little
is so much.
now i’m seeing…
People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention
so you can change your life.
– Elizabeth Gilbert –
(en)tangled…
the student…
I don’t believe in them
but somewhere
there are gods
hiding inside of their own heads
using all their might
trying to stop their own eardrums from pounding out
the sound of your name
you are lightning
trying to tame thunder
leaving split second scars against the sky
as if you were breaking the skin of something that won’t die
my first instinct
is the same as my second
strongly reinforced
as if by a diamond sheeting
that donated its glimmer to charity so that it could look dull and tough
a shine now scuffed
as if the world left a bruise on light
I fight my instinct long enough to realize
that I won’t win
I give in
surrendering to an impulse
somewhat believing that my imprisonment will not involve torture if I I confess everything I know
I know
nothing
I bring an emptiness to your need
like a dog laying a skeleton at your feet bone by bone
I lay stone all around you in a circle as if at any moment you will burst into flame and warm us
long enough so that I can tell you my ghost story
that a part of me
still haunts my memory
it throws chairs against my mirrored mind
cracking the reflections
in which I once thought
I would find answers
if I reflect long enough
there will be answers
but like mail on Sunday
none came
so I sit before flowers
hoping they will train me in the art
of opening up
I stand on mountain tops believing
that avalanches will teach me to let go
I know
nothing
but I am here to learn.
– Shane Koyczan –
what nature strips away…
I hope like a child
Windows of the sea
I hold these arms around you
Walls around me.
– E. K. –
