Love Like Introspection

Could I ever be loved as completely

As the honesty of your sincerest introspection?

 

Mortality and eternity,

Subjects so situated in time

That occupy my emptiness

The way I wish I was admired.

 

Could I fill your mind

And terrify your sense of being

In such a way as to change

The reality of your inner quiet?

 

People are like night skies,

Shifting their position and meaning,

So when you gaze at me

I hope you think of what you’re not seeing.

 

We are mysterious and complicated things,

Too important for casual recognition,

And if I’m ever to be loved again

It must be worth our fullest attention.

Divinely Strange Comfort

These clouds, this wind,

My habits and mood swings,

Cigarettes and coffee,

Half-finished conversations,

Guarded hearts, tender connections,

Horror movies, memories,

Kissing in your parent’s basement.

October, yes another,

Let’s do nothing in October

But stay warm and witness death.

Nature wants to sleep.

I’m cold, but you’re warm.

Nevermind the ghosts,

They make the air more profound.

Encroaching sleep,

A pleasant sensation,

No better way to fall

In this moment.

Cold is coming

To swallow us up again.

This quiet anticipation

Makes a comfort, divinely strange.

A Loud Night

July, late at night,

Fullest of expression,

Dance and open-ended,

But still separate.

One little touch,

A thrill and delight,

While falling so short

Of what I need.

Pleasant distraction,

These tortured revelries

Like simple remedies

For bored nothings.

Smile while laughing,

Not disingenuous,

But a lingering sadness

Sits in my brain.

Merely a touch,

One hit from the pipe

Of animal comforts

To top off the night.