Ego death

 

She will arrive in a taxicab

from my dreams, the starlight,

she will come from so far,

a satellite of my heart,

and I’ll let the ego die.

 

The walls built to

protect my fearful heart,

the stalled beats

that whimper within.

 

For now, there is no me.

Only us, and I will give all.

 

My worlds will show you stories,

they will create safe spaces for our

sailing souls to float.

They will open up to our shared whole.

The original dream,

a single cell split in two.

One me and one you.

 

And we will grow,

Together.

A tree whose branches reach

out to touch the ether.

 

And like a reverse Adam and Eve,

We will let our leaves fall

we will let ourselves walk tall

in this Eden we create

from the seeds of our story.

Love language

 

What is your love language?

Mine speaks in tongues,

it sings and it roars,

it slows and calms, when it is

holding on to a moonbeam.

It longs to feel comfort

in the closeness of a breath,

a spoken word held in the air

before blowing away in the

electric atmosphere.

 

My language is closeness

and shared experiences.

It is the whispered daydream

that flows between two awakened

hearts beating in rhythm.

My language speaks in song.

It rhymes in the chiming air

and longs for you to share

the weird that it sees as ordinary.

 

My language is time,

it is shared highlights,

beamed onto the moon,

for us to watch back

like a movie playthrough.

My language is song,

it is hearing your words singing along,

when our closeness

makes the earth turn.

It is warmth. The burning

of the sun. It is lightness,

the moon on a dark night,

but it is also shadows

where we hold each other tight.

 

My language is

in the worlds we can create,

and the stories that circumnavigate,

it is the unique in a sea of normalcy,

it is a quirky beat played out of key,

an orchestra just out of sync,

but it is whole and true,

and it plays on for you and me.

unclued on social cues

Maybe our two souls

are seeking the same view,

my heart definitely beats harder for you,

but my voice wavers, as I’m confused.

My brain can’t read the social cues.

My heart feels a pull,

but the mind sits and

 

stalls.

 

Unsure what to do.

 

And in the static, I panic.

what if I fluff the lines?

Or give answers to the wrong signs?

Or fall for a heart that

couldn’t fall for mine?

It’s hard seeing the world

through such a misty view.

when love exists but you

don’t know if it exists for you.

When you can’t make the stories connect,

just threads blowing in the wind,

scraps in your head gathering cobwebs.

 

I see signs that are unwritten,

and miss ones that sit underlined,

and I’m scared that once bitten

I’ll let the thoughts spiral and crash.

But I’m smitten, a roaring

lion that resembles a kitten.

 

So, I merely whisper

through my whiskers

and lick my paws,

putting my thoughts to paper.

Leaving my heart scrawled

on the floor in pawprint patter.

 

I am like a lovesick teenager

stuffed inside an adult skin.

 

Sausage meat with

salt and pepper seasoning.

I’m a meal but one that you can’t read,

for the sweet is savoury

and the pastry is all flaky.

 

I’m a written declaration of love,

only the language is alien to me.

 

So, I hide it all behind a wall,

scared to show myself,

scared to stand arms held wide.

And yet my heart is there beating a drumbeat

to all, and I give every piece except

the part I have stored, for the special one

that whispers when the moonlight falls.