I would ask you an important question, but the weight of it would be too
much, so I will write
instead. not asking, have you heard

me scribbling love note forest
fires onto paper, crushing
them into a red backpack? have you heard the
splash
as it hits the river, heard ink
run into
nonbeing? because that would be raw and

easy to decipher, and my Icarus heart would flow from the
sun. a remedy for burns, for

cancer, quick, let’s find a cure for
earthquakes. you know as well as I do that I am the
cat, and you are the cat, so what confuses me is, who is the fucking mouse?
still, all this oceaneyegazing does nothing for the stars.

I think I should kiss you.

I would say something, any
thing at all, but I know that what slips out would leave me shaking. it would be spontaneous and I would have to be ready not to cry
in case you ran. I always

disintegrate into love too alive, too
fast,

what the hell am I thinking?
but there are worse wrongs I have already done, and in an
instant we could be fall
ing.

maybe once you inhale this small galaxy you will understand.

we will need no words, only
breath. and where will I find that softness
if I do not touch your heart?

but you do not want to be touched.





[I don't know. I don't bloody know. What to do or how to say what I should. So I'll spill it in some fucking internet journal that you'll never read, wrapped tight in awful words you'll never understand anyway. Fuck.]