Fair skin, englishblood
With these hands I long for you
My blue-eyed darling.



You are greyscale roses
And a tongue-in-cheek joke
follow my sideways glances
in your quiet love, I soak.



The blue in your eyes, your heartbeat is thick & strong
Blessed be you, like a hymn or a gift or a song
Your hands run veined, leaves spread wide and delicate with green
Your skin runs patterns, black ink and scars cut clean

Your voice is clarity, created with the gift of speech
Deep, yet quiet, shallows of the ocean beneath

Blessed are the living who survive in numbered days
You are among the chosen, spend your life in beautiful ways.


I think about the first time you told me you loved me often.
We were on our way home
New-Haven bound on the Metro-North
You were fidgeting and acting incredibly odd
(as much as I could tell, for someone who hadn’t known you for very long at all)
Right before, you had said “I can’t believe I’m going to say this”
And you knew it was a risk

I had felt myself wondering when I would tell you
Thinking “now”, that day, all day, would have been much too soon
And for most people it would have been
I don’t think you knew it was mutual yet
I think you were scared but trusting, and took a leap
For such a guarded man
I have seen leaps and bounds of faith between us
You have been giving me parts of you that you never thought even possible
and I hope to do the same
with every fear of commitment
in every moment of doubt
I love you too.

I promised him the sunrise.

Dance with me as it comes
until that dying star makes his way up again
our toes dusted wet with sand
slow walking through moonlight-guided paths

Tell me your worst secrets
believe me it will only make you more human
give me your best
you are filled with blue & light
and I will run with you until the end

Until the sky turns orange
bright and blue
until the sky turns black again.


Tell me
when was it you abandoned a fondness of your own laugh?
that ferociousness reverberating inside your own chest
quiet rumbling like earthquake tremors

You neglect that the scars on your skin
numb to the touch and lovely
are telling of a story, a life

Did you ever possess it?
A fondness I mean, of your own self.



You sleep less and less
Brown eyes inky with ambition
Chasing your dreams down with a fire

A job of success
a life of wealth.

You wish to be great
and revered for as such.

You forgot to tell yourself
that you are already full of worth.

I want you to know your heart is made of virtue
more determination than I ever thought humanly possible.

Do not allow yourself to disservice your greatness
Your worth is not measured in success.

It is not the amount of money in your pocket
it is in the imperfect perfection of who you are.



He smiles at me like he knows that I’ve been wondering
If his heart is as deep as his eyes blue
If his hurt runs as far and wide as mine
I speak of song and he licks profanities from the corners of his mouth

This game of calculated interaction holds heat of unspoken nature
We play in, dancing with quiet electricity
In hopes of untouched perpetuity

Forgive me for the absence of an apology
I lack the personal depth to be regretful
When my desire is this impetuous.


He laughs like he’s letting go of this weight on his lungs
like he doesn’t smoke Newports at a pack a day.

There are things he has seen as a child
moments you can see his eyes far off, imagining
lost in his daydream
and promising he will not let his future reflect his past.

This man stands in front of me
with Hershey brown eyes
they are grounded and wise and alive
they speak to me with a clear conscience.
Passion. Family. Perfection. Honor. Pride.

I have seen men move mountains and refuse to look inside themselves
you are a warrior
a person of such virtue
that he has constructed himself all over again
there is no honor in cowardice
but there is reverence in becoming something noble in the absence of light.