aquamarine

 

 

                I have seen two thousand starry nights
        and can still count the hours
spent with my eyes wandering from one burning pinpoint to the next
                              wondering and waiting.

                                                         My memories have been lit by indigo evenings
                                         by breathless moments
                                  reaching out of car windows
              catching the frozen air as it caressed my tired bones
                                          ringing with the melodies of forgotten years.

              When it rains
         my eyes sting with empathetic devotion
               the droplets clinging to my hair like miniscule galaxies
dreaming of broken skyscrapers


                            and I still cannot find the words to describe you.



                                            ours is a love that none have ever dared to dream before.


we are defined by the unusual
                                              our own personal color spectrums
                           glimmering like sandcastles
                           and holding our breath against the tide

                                  trying to catch a glimpse of that aquamarine heaven
                  as we lose ourselves beneath the fractured sunlight
                                                            laughing at the glorious catastrophe of us.



we will never live up to our names.

                           hiding broken histories and tearful contrition
                                      staggering weaknesses

                                                                                        i am no shimmering ideal
                                                                        and you are no blood-spattered ataxia
choking with rage
lost in this nebulous agony; suffocating



                                                     my hands are burnt.

                              running from bleak puppetry
i pray for scars


and yet

                                              these tragic distances lose all
                                                                                          relevance
                                                  in the static-laced interims
                                   drowning in delicate chronology

you intoxicate my nerves
                                                    intangible beloved

                                                                                                            irreplaceable.

                                 every moment has been                      
                                                           p r i c e l e s s .
                                       every ache,                            every smile,
                                                       every silent syllable
ancient words and tired eyes
             embracing my early morning thoughts
                                            echoing through every note I dare to explore
             with an empyreal sort of dissonance

                                              a misunderstood chord in the symphony of things
my major seventh.



if I could put you to music                          a resounding symphony on my heartstrings
                 the ineffable echoes in my ribcage

                                would steal my voice away



                                                      the white stillness knows of our secrets
                                    snowflakes clinging to every ephemeral sigh
                     veiling sentiments in foreign tones
                                                      burning with subaqueous confessions
                                   a paradoxical state of mind
            watching sparks catch on the ice
                                                                our spectrums are complimentary



                         you are my curse, my blessing
                                                     my emerald-eyed maelstrom
                                            inducing this desperate oneirataxia
in which we are never surprised to find each other
(chasing relentless hopes)

                        reaching for a link that was never promised to us


                you transcend my capacity to    speak
                leaving this starlit soul with naught but indescribable emotion
                                              and so I reach out to you in wordless sorrow  
  praying for a single moment of euphoric refuge
                                             sobbing as you unconditionally hold me close


                                     your chest holds no shuddering disbelief
                    when I brush my contrite fingertips
  across invisible scars


                yet you recognize every fragile heartbeat
                                as if they had been written for you alone.



                                               we are an impossibility.


                                           we are a dream so beautiful
                                                  that reality could not possibly contain it

                                                          reaching out and blessing us with shaking hands
                                                                         we would never survive here.


and yet I'm willing to try
as long as you promise to follow


                                     for as long as they expect your heart
                                       to conform to stereotypical disorder
                                        we can be as illogical as we want.