Your light always goes out before mine and soon
I know you’re sleeping by the rhythms.
Breath crescendos and the little bird
God fed you before birth slows its beating.
I try to match your inhale
inhale, no. I take deeper breaths and that’s okay because
I know you’re mine in spite of polar patterns.
Our skin sticks together.
I drink you in through touch and cells colliding,
taste the sweat like glue with moonlight
outlining bed sheet curves and breaths—
In. Out. Rise and fall and heart,
I hear you.
Even with my eyes closed I make maps with
stars as destination markers, places I
should touch but I wait patiently ‘til morning.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
-Kahlil Gibran from The Prophet
Virginia Woolf, Night and Day (via hateshiploveship)
sole to pavement, crossing yellow lines and
falling into what will take me to you.
scratchy, worn in machine breathing life
into empty mattresses. erasing nights when reaches
only bring me closer to vacant pillows.
shake. and almost lose my balance but
remember where i’m going.
steady. making miles minutes and
blurring trees with birds. loved ones and their
homes melted together to separate when life
slows down, and only then
whisper words of gratitude.
whistle blowing shaping in the wind
becomes a distant echo, a reminder.
of how love is built on traveling.
and oh, i love to travel.