A Story of LovePen to the paper when I first saw your smile,heart sinking to my gut, splashing in my bile.First piece of prose, first page I wroteKissed me in the winter and that heart began to float.I write it all in black ink, no erasers wanted here.Don't need a tube of white-out to keep my story clear.I kiss you in an airport, I kiss you in the dark.Kiss you in Spain's ocean or even Perú's Kennedy Park.Held taught in your arms as I jotted another line,another paragraph folding between your hand and mine.A page blanketing our bodies, spilling fancy words,about fiery passion between two helpless nerds.But the story is on hold. The author sits in tears.She doesn't know the characters,just their deepest fears.
Goodnight, My Frontal LobeEven when my brain cellsfeel like dull stars floatingbetween so much dark matterentrenched in sleepy night smoke,some firework lights the skyfrom my wistful electrical synapse,knowing soon it'll be dreaming of you.
Estoy contando los diasTrece dias hasta queme subare a un avion.Quisiera oir las palabras de otrosorganizados en formas y culturas quemi mente no comprenda. Quisiera ver las cosas con una perspectivade un mundo que no conoce un cielo sin luz.Quisiera entrar un pais,renunciando todos mis conocimientos,y aprendiendo otra vez desde cero. Pero, por fin, quisiera tener tu cuerpo en mis brazosotra vezy juntos, quisiera besarte y ver el mundopor tus gafas.
UndulateThe wavelengths,the peaks,the troughsof your voicewash over me.I stand on the shore,your tide rolling in strenuously slowly,and I'm getting terribly wet.
Sta.sh
