You might know this already, but you’re the first person whose eyes I can look into for so long without feeling uncomfortable. Maybe they’re just naturally that warm–I remember you calling brown eyes the warmest–but I have a feeling that it’s just you. You can say the words with your fingers on a screen or with your lips to my face for as long as you want, but if I really want to know that you love me, I’ll just shift my gaze to yours.
“Tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe.”
” There once was a moon, as beautiful as can be, only the stars could fathom, but the sun could not see. The sun so radiant, he burns so bright. The moon so luminous, but only showed her face during the night. She was untouchable, surrounding herself with a blanket of darkness. The sun would give anything to catch a glimpse of the Moon illuminating the beautiful night sky.
Until one day when the Sun was sliding out of the heavens, he caught a glimpse of her. She was peeking up, a rare side of her being exposed to the light. And while the Sun could shine, he knew the Moon could glow.
Just as the Stars were wandering into the night, the Sun fell in love like a snowball hurding down a mountain. How he wished to see her move than the fleeting moments he shared with her at both dawn and dusk. But they were a world apart.
“Go,” she whispered to him one of those nights, her voice as sweet and sorrowful as the last light of morning. “Go and let me breathe, for you and I have decided fates. You illuminate the day, and I cast a glow one the night. We will never be. Our connection would go against what all the people believe, all they know” During the summer he would stay a little longer just in case she would change his mind. It was no use.
“Don’t you dare abandon your blessing of light for my darkness.” And those were the last words the Moon was strong enough to speak to the Sun.
The Sun could feel her peaceful soul and it soon became clear. He would die each and every night to let his true love breathe, for it would put an end to all her misery.
” a tale like this should be heard and seen.”
“And no one will know it is the story of you and me.”
it has been one of the greatest and most difficult years of my life. i learned everything is temporary. moments. feelings. people. flowers. i learned love is about giving- everything- and letting it hurt. i learned vulnerability is always the right choice because it is easy to be cold in a world that makes it so very difficult to remain soft. i learned all things come in twos: life and death, pain and joy, sugar and salt, me and you. it is the balance of the universe. it has been the year of hurting so bad but living so good, making friends out of strangers, making strangers out of friends, learning [sweet tea] will fix just about everything and for the pains it can’t, there will always be my mother’s arms. We must learn to focus on warm energy, always. soak our limbs in it and become better lovers to the world, for if we can’t learn to be kinder to each other how will we ever learn to be kinder to the most desperate parts of ourselves.
me and you
i think about it all the time
us curdled up post love making on the couch
you tell me i think we should get married
i laugh at the mere idea and say lets just sleep for now
but i see the seriousness in your eyes and i know there is just a matter of time
decades of platonic infatuation accompanied by these years of complete romantic adoration
can only lead to one inevitable fate
i wake up the next morning, long after you and walk out to the porch of our one bedroom apartment
it’s a sunday
i can hear you in the kitchen, making my coffee like you do every sunday
you hate coffee
the ambience of the sun reflects the swelling of my heart when i realize it
i am going to marry you
me and you forever
but right now it is a friday night, i am alone and you are with him
I want to believe that in another world- a parallel universe- we would have worked out.
That in another universe, I’d be wearing your hoodie and you’d be my muse.
That in another universe, you’d be looking over my shoulder as my favourite pen scribbled another badly written poem about you.
I’d like to believe, that in another universe, you’d be laughing at it.
Yes, I’d like to believe that we would have worked out- in a world where I’d be less broken and you’d be more willing to try.