with you,
there is no singular moment.
when we touch, when we taste, when we make love,
we are suspended in the infinity of every second—
we neutralize time
when we do this dance of ours.
our souls synchronize with unbearable precision;
our breaths shudder, reckless with urgency
our tongues, unrestrained, melt into nectar,
our limbs sweat and ache with magic,
our eyes, they become eternal
till finally, the sky collapses
when we do this dance of ours.
and time stretches into forever
in surrender to our climax,
our supernova
when we do this dance of ours.


water: things you taught me

1. you are water. you must flow, or you become stagnant, or our love becomes stagnant. 
you cannot stay.
2. i can love things that do not stay; you showed me that.
oh, how i would tear myself wide open for you. how i would stretch myself the expanse of the sky, to keep you flowing through me a little longer.
3. you are water. how could you be mine to keep?
4. only now matters. i do not need to trust you for forever; only now matters.
5. in spite of all my yearning, i alone cannot be yours. i would drown.
6. some nights, i become you. and even then i cannot contain you. so i spill.
7. i am fire. i feel you only in extremes. nothing, not even the calm in your touch, can temper that.
8. where you are a maelstrom, i am a lone flame, yet my love for you would outburn the sun.
9. water and fire can coexist, or how would i be alive? you are how my blood flows.
10. maybe i am not that magnificent.
11. these scars are evidence that i have loved. i do not feel like i once could, but at least i know now that i have felt. thank you.
12. you are dangerous and mysterious. stunning and overwhelming. i would not dare want you any other way.
13. i am still a lonesome soul. not even my love for you can contain that.
14. i am still not over you. i do not think i need to be.
15. you are water. you are, everything.


the rain 
kisses the naked parts of my skin
and never looks back. 
without hesitation
it falls into me 
makes itself at home 
in my hair, on my lashes, my cheeks, my lips
on my chest, my hands, my ankles
until i can no longer tell myself apart from it. 

is how i walk through the storm
and emerge 

Shirin Neshat with Sussan DeyhimLogic of the Birds2001

amor, es

soul to soul—
that is how fire and water coexist.
neither will extinguish the other
when their souls align,
when their spirits become still. 
they do not become liquid fire,
or fiery water,
they simply are
water and fire
touching souls. 
everything is fluid, there is no strife here 
just two forces of nature
exchanging breath,
because ultimately, they are one thing. 


the moon has all these faces
but i have only one heart to ache with.
last night, she looked like fire in her red dress
tonight, she bewitches me in white lace
and i want to be there with her
wrapped in Cirrus clouds and night sky
but i have only one heart to ache with


now is beautiful
right now is so beautiful
there is a vulnerability in being present 
in forgetting everything and just being
and it’s ok, 
we are humans,
that’s all we can ever be—vulnerable. 
you are water
you flow through me, easily, 
you still me. 
the chilly breeze plays a tune on his saxophone 
because now is so beautiful 
the street lamps illuminate the night with all the electric they can muster
because now is so beautiful 
the coffeeshop window paints our silhouettes against her glass body
because we are here in the midst of right now 
and it is so beautiful 
and we are beautiful in it
wow, look 
how everything becomes art in celebration of right now
because it is so beautiful
"we were made to love, for love, by Love."

you number your days,
you soak the pages in rainwater & rosemary.
this is your act of atonement
for being too in love with your alone
for not quite knowing how to belong
or to anyone.

why do you ask so many questions?
why do you accept so few answers?
you’ve only just begun, why are you thinking about the end already?
what are you counting down to exactly? forever is beyond measure.
you are right here, right now, & you are loved. is that not enough?
but happiness is too flimsy for you, isn’t it
you say the melancholia has more grit.
i believe you.

but the universe wants you to know
that you are not an Other
that you belong
right here, in the midst of God
you belong
to this very moment
right next to the hurricanes,
the wolves,
the deserts,
right next to the breeze, the flame,
right next to those beautiful, beautiful marred humans.
you belong.


where do you go to find stillness?
the night is most romantic
when you are still.
she is serenading you. just listen.

i stand here and watch two lovers
drink each other till they are giddy with life.
they are being present
being beautiful
with still hearts & naked souls,
they are being.
how could the night not be in love with them?


Anonymous: Are you dating anybody? Does this influence your poetry?

love, everything touches my poetry. x


her eyes would have you believe
that you speak their language,
but the jagged linings of her irises are not scripture -
know this. and know it well.
bodies do not lie
but eyes do.
show me the trickery
in clammy palms
and bruised necks,
in shaky hearts,
and pulsing groins.
show it to me.
but how tears deceive,
how pupils dilate and contract
saying too many things at once
lids blinking with intention
crowding your mind with ideas—
her eyes would have you believe
that you speak their language,
but do you, really?

this is how i believe
what i believe:
pressed up against its length entirely
exchanging breath
exploring depth
where is the deception in the goosebumps on your skin
so carefully arranged in eloquent Braille.
where is it?
i am blind,
but my fingertips are eager to read
to learn your body
to seek out its truth.

and should the truth really be obsolete
well, your body is not.



how much can we want before it becomes greed?
how deeply can we thirst before it becomes mania?
how completely can we fast before it becomes suicide?
we are the signs of an elusive God
entire generations, searching
for what exactly?
with all our strength, we fight
to retrace our steps back to immortality,
and fall even farther from grace
wreaking cosmic destruction
in attempts to make Gods of ourselves,
more of ourselves,
Gods of ourselves..
all this sky over our heads,
yet we want more.
how high can we reach before it becomes blasphemy?

— la’Rose