fight for me.
our love will be the kind
where you sweat sundrops
and I bleed moonbeams
and we make oceans move with our music.
I am a ghost who walks untiring,
who will follow the trail of your atoms
until I can read your dreams like braille.
I only make demands
because I am tired of asking the flowers
why they're in better shape than me:
whisper me some starlight
so I may be taught how to shine,
touch my lips so I may learn how to smile.
my hands stay empty of air
because I cannot grasp you.
tell me the story of your scars
so I can burn the maps later.
I cannot be the myth
that explains your smile,
write the autobiography of your fingers
down my back
so I can finally sigh your name.
my history is a long lost oceanic voyage
given to a child who only tells
the details she can remember:
'member when we used
to drink slurpees and play arcade games?
'member when the street was a football field,
a hide-and-seek war room,
the stage where we held hands
and watched the sunset like she was a belly dancer?
no, don't tell me the same thing again.
I left repetition a note saying
I don't love you so I left you for change:
a buck and a quarter for a lifetime ride.
look at me like you'd never seen me before,
like anything I say now you can't place
because it was already in your ear.
my heartbeats should be echoes
in the mirrors of your convictions,
a harmony of familiarity.
tomorrow, I will wake
when your legs intertwine in mine,
a spider of hands and feet
spinning the fate we'd drawn on our palms,
change my shuffled life into a mercutial reading.
I come to you porous,
petal-plucked and reinforced in starshine,
I know not where I'll go
but I count thoughts down like spells.
when you look at me
I should be the alpha and omega of your sentences,
a name only spoken in your holiest moments,
and if you ever know breath, remember me.
glass is not as missed as your kiss.
I will not apologize for the fingerprints
on your ears, when you speak the words back
I already know the seeds.
I want to be the veins of your rainbow leaves,
details of a secret life that made you corporeal.
fight for me.
I'm not one to forget your lips on my neck
or your fingers on the pulse
of my beating words.
your reflection should make a noise
I put on repeat,
your smile
should be putting me to sleep right now.
and if I have to make sense of your stare
then give me the lifetime
of a seedling to watch your blooming life,
'cause I wanna be one of your roots.