Love doesn’t happen in an instant. You notice a person and then it takes time to discover all their quirks, and then realize you adore them all. It takes a while to acknowledge your adoration for every little bit of them. And after that… your screwed if you ever want to get away.
—  An Over Active Mind
The worst part about crying for someone is that most of the time you wish it was them wiping the tears from your cheeks. You wish it was them holding you close to their chest, hearing the music of their heartbeat. You wish it was them running their fingers through your hair, telling you everything is okay. The worst part is not knowing if that someone is the cure or the disease.
—  Late nights

You are everything that light touches; and then you are light itself.
In the morning the sun draws back like a timid, timid, hand.
During the night the moon, too, retracts–for it knows what you can do.
I pull you close and instantly I am there and then I am not
in the palm of your hand, in the crease of your knees,
on the edge of your lashes when you blink,
I pull you close and instantly I am there and then I am not
in the palm of your hand, in the crease of your knees,
in the mere-ness of your thoughts when you think.

1,000 poems ago I told you that it was the little things,
1,000 poems later and I will tell you the all the same.

—  The Little Things by J. Harris

All I want is a tiny apartment to share with my lover. The heater doesn’t have to work because we’ll have each other.

I’ll write late by the windowsill cast in the neon lights, and he will kiss my forehead, and whisper his goodnight.

Maybe we’ll share picnics. Maybe we won’t have time. Maybe we’ll have romantic dinners over a glass of wine.

Maybe we’ll just have kisses over store-bought stew - we’ll still spend our days doing what lovers do.

Yes, we’ll have our fights over whatever’s said; but when either of us are angry neither will go to bed.

We’ll stay up together until the sun does rise, sharing kisses and “I love you”’s as we apologize.

My love will never wander, and I will never roam, because wherever we’re together we are together, home.

Yes, we’ll traverse deserts and stroll strange city streets, placing our humble thumbprint wherever lovers meet.

But when the money’s gone and all the planes asleep, we’ll return to our tiny apartment and count eachother’s sheep.

I’ve started looking through old things; old pictures and old texts and old letters. I know not everything was good all the time but honestly, love, you can just feel the love dripping from the pages painted with the ink of loving words and photographic memories. We loved each other so much. You loved me so much. I don’t think I’ll ever find that kind of love again.
—  a letter to you concerning letters to me
Of Love and Bean Bag Chairs

I found you in the first lines of notebook paper and worn bean bag chairs

You know, home-y things

Like pillows with dented centers or a wash-softened sweater with holes in the wrist

My lucky dime shoved through.

I found you in candlelight and the smell of laundry soap

In french vanilla tea and my favorite pair of jeans, I found you

In the marker on mirrors and the ink in the lines of my palms.

This is how I love you:

Softly, in a whisper and a sweet smile

In messy hair and morning mist.


Evening Window

I waited
Since early morning
To feel you
At the end of this day
And hold you
By the height
Of that evening
Near the window
By our bed
Where we rest,
And lay the rock
Of our future
As we build it
From scratch
In the failing sun
As we let it
Fall to Earth
By the height
Of our grasp,
Take the toil
Or strain
Of our senses
As momentum
From the cracks
In our hands,
And throb
Like the sprains
In our distance
To worship
By the nails
Of our feet,
And exalt
This lie which we
And bloody
In strength
To breach the time
Of that limit
And with certainty
At all cost
The loss and treasure
Of minutes
Or agony
In feeling like
That briefest of
Seconds within them
And by dinner
The warmth
Of her breast -
This God
And savior
In waiting
And religion
Of warmth
In that kiss,
Taking the pain
As we will it
But knowing
The knife
Has its edge
And circle
Of decades
Its fringes
Bound to the trim
Of such loops
And hoping
The line
Grows thinnest
By the cusp
Of attempts
We endure
The truth
Of an instant
But forever
Barely making it

- J. Pigno

My best friend told me not to go, she said I would get attached
Careless when I’m there but crave you when I get back
I told her she was crazy, I just needed a break
But when I came home
I didn’t feel alone 
But this still doesn’t feel like a mistake
So I’m in your phone all day, trying to make you remember old times
Like when I was officially yours and when you were officially mine
We laugh and call it horrible and crack jokes about what we’ve done
We play with each other feelings constantly, because that’s how we have our fun
You purposely make me miss you, I purposely return to my old ways
Doing the things I use to do that made you want me to stay
Then it’s all over, I return to New York and we return to not talking at all
I call you out your name when you text, we flirt whenever you call
I thought I was meant to work things out with my past 
You swooped in and changed that so fast
So here I am, back in your arms at last 
You want no parts and I would do next to anything to have what we had once more 
But I keep my mouth shut, and never ever mention it, just too even the score
—  you wouldn’t hold my hand when we got back in the car because you didn’t want me to get attached to you. Now I text you once an hour,
Remain A Summer Field

The fields smell differently in Summer.
Of new grass and new wheat
and new morning stories stretching
on to the mountains and skies.

I find these fields in your landscape–
looking above, I see horizons
compliment your skin and
and possibilities of places far away
dressing you with daylight and moonlight
and thought.

Remain a Summer field today,
but as there are new seasons,
so you will change with them,

and I’ll gaze and marvel in new ways,
as well.


nothing about this is sign is the same,
they are not violent,
but they are wrathful and protective,
you have gained a loyal guardian when you love them.


hard-headed but not hard-hearted,
they’ll kiss your wounds,
give you compromises when they love you,
they are the pillow for you to rest on.


they are graceful when they love,
trying to hide themselves away,
when they love you,
they will give you every bit of them.


a nurturer at heart,
they keep you wrapped in soft silks and warm blankets,
this is someone who will take care of you,
no matter what you do.  


In love they are aggressive,
they are reserved,
a walking contradiction,
who loves loving you.


picky picky picky,
it doesn’t matter once they settle on you,
they will devote themselves,
you would be a worthy god for their religion to be built upon.


they are quick to isolate themselves,
they will go out of their way to make sure,
that you never have to do that,
they are oh-so loyal to you.


so often confused as callous,
they do not know how to express emotion,
but they will hold you tight at night,
and fend off your monsters for you.


they are rapid and animalistic,
protective and loving,
their growls are signs of love,
rough but never hurtful.


they will work hard to make you feel secure,
make you feel loved,
this sign is emotional,
they want to preserve you and raise you up.


they have so much to give,
their potential to love completely is beyond belief,
they are the water-bearer,
but they are just as prepared to bear your weight as well.


this sign will lose themselves in you,
but let you do the same,
they can be a shelter for you,
and hide you from the world.

—  the signs in love; l.m.