He said, “How do you kiss someone when you’re always smiling like that? How does that even work?”
Magic
When I asked you how you survived I didn’t mean what you did work-wise. I meant how did you manage to keep on living - what did you find that made it possible to just continue being...
On My Last Night in Wroclaw
I danced haphazardly over bridges aflame, upturned pales of gasoline and bad intentions swinging wild from blazing arms. The postcard came months later, all your mistakes extrapolated in ink, smudged wet with misery and the effortless leaking of time time time. You scrawled out drunk epiphanies that night in the rain when the bars closed and the sidewalks tired of our happy dancing feet, our constant – no, our endless – posturing, they ushered us to strange beds, too uncomfortable to sleep in – beds not built for sleeping in at all! And I hung portraits of your hungry face all over the walls of my skull, composed whimsically with the runny pastel watercolors of my youth and smeared over the repurposed canvases of bad memories that littered the floor... Drunk and intolerable, I can barely make them out anymore. Alone, and admittedly a bit touched, I raise a toast to the ghost of us then -- me: smiling, awkward; you: still, enchanting, spitting out my love like so many watermelon seeds.
Oh
Would you know what I meant if I told you that when I woke up this morning for the first time in a long time I felt just like an ampersand?
Good Question
She said, "Did you know that you curl up like a question mark when you're asleep?"
Black holes
I paused for a moment suspended over the event horizon before I threw myself headfirst into the crushing gravity of your love hoping you would not just swallow me up like all the others wishing you would tear me apart quark by quark praying like hell it would hurt
Under falling stars
I found my soul last night. We had gotten mixed up, separated somewhere in Brussels, I think, a few months back. I leveled some pretty serious accusations at him, out there in that biting wind. He just shrugged it off, and admonished me for all the things I hadn’t done on my own. There wasn’t much for me to say about that – we both knew he was right.
I began to ask him some pretty big questions, and relate the old familiar worries that had been nagging at me, chewing wild and eager on the corners of my mind.
As we sat there under the glittering sky, watching Perseus fall apart, he didn’t say much of anything at all. I mean, I guess we’re back together, but not really on speaking terms.