If you want to create
beautiful things,
you must be made of
beautiful things.
Is my creation limited, then,
to
    bent and
           bro      ken
                and
a    n    g   r    y  ?
Am I the sum or simply
a collection of parts
with nothing to bind me
    to
         g
              eth
                     e
                          r  ?
(-o.a.p.)

At times, the appeal of
running--
feet pounding on asphalt
hands joined
eyes laughing,
recklessly
running away--
calls to me,
and I think of you
and how running
could never work for us
because you have asthma
and I can't stay

(-o. a. p)

I sat down to write about you
To encapsulate who you are,
How much I love you,
What I feel when you’re close.
But all that came to mind
Was the soft, white-noise roar
Of silence, and a pounding word:
Distance
Distance
Distance
That literal distance between us
Has got me reaching blindly into the dark–
How did I manage before I knew you?
Could I have imagined the difficulty
Of being unable to just run to you
After a long day, or a hard night–
Could I have underestimated your importance
So completely?
I wanted to say, my love,
I miss your nearness.
I miss your arms around me,
And the way you would let our arms touch,
Ever so slightly,
Because you realized I needed to know you were there.
My darling, my sunshine,
Have I ever told you,
In the proper words and diction,
How much you mean to me?
Could I ever tell you,
In what short time we may have left?
You see, my love,
I am certain of very few things–
Only that children grow up,
And time is relative,
And life is short but bright,
Like a firecracker in the night of existence.
And, my love my darling my life,
I am certain that I will love you
Until all other certainties ring false.
Yes I know it’s dramatic, I know,
But oh, my sunshine, my only,
I love you.

(-o. a. p)

I am fragments, pieces of me orbiting around and around the piece of you. Not dizzy, or misplaced, but light, and slow, muted like time is cupped in the palm of your hand and you're pulling it around us an unsteady protection, your fingers a blessing where they brush my skin.

We are a meteoroid, spiraling lazily until something larger and stronger than ourselves rips us into a sharp plummet with friction and reckless speed and we burn away-

Yet still I search the ashes and find you; begging pleading wanting you to return with me-take me back up to that flawless endless space; take time in your hand and me in your arms and let me orbit you with a reverence I never had for any god

-(and perhaps we will touch the stars)
(-o. a. p.)