Dear Baby,
at this moment
I am 22 and you
are just an idea –
a twinkle in my eye.
But my dear twinkle,
even just as you are,
you must know this:
there are great things
that make this existence of ours
worth experiencing.
Poetry Beauty Romance
Love
Oh captain, my captain
These are what we stay alive for.

Now let me tell you a story, mi lunita
and may you be born with a mind filled with love
romance
beauty
poetry.

Once upon a time,
I met your papi for the first time
in a dream –
of this I am certain.
I stood in front of my friends and family
in a room of heavenly white.
I remember the curve of papi’s shoulder
in his nicest black suit. I remember
vows being whispered in my ear
and the way the light looked behind my eyelids.

I know this was your papi for two reasons:
1.) He is the only man I have loved
that would think to whisper marriage vows
– creating a secret, just for us.
Our love has always been just for us.
Private.
Sacred.
Why do they have to know everything?

2.). On our first date,
I opened the door
and in a burgundy shirt
red carnations in hand,
was your papi.
His lips were shaped like the Amen
to my whole life’s prayer
and I couldn’t stop myself from
embracing him.

So often, baby
your body remembers
what your soul has seen
but your mind has long forgotten.

Listen, my love
Find the quiet.
Feel your soul settled into you.
There is so much to remember.

Mi lunita,
*I remember you.

There doesn't seem to be an end
To these thoughts, my friend.
Another day of this pain passes
While choking on the vacuum of space.
Darkness truly is the absence of light,
For I cannot escape this wicked plight.
The illusion of time aside, we've already
Lived and died – it is together, I hope.
I long for our time to glow
Much like a dead star in the night.
I wish for us to glimmer back,
Brighter and hotter than anyone
Light years away could ever imagine.
I'm sure we will bring life
To a world unknowing.
Until then, my friend
We must keep growing.

He? Glowing like neon lights
On a dark stark night
I don't even need
to stare him down
To see what he is made of.

He! Made of thousands of galaxies
And his eyes... a constellation
Out of bright burning blue stars
Hung upon a clear velvet sky
I tell myself, maybe that is why...

He, don't even bother to try
For when he speaks, his words it spills
Like ice-cold soda in my tongue
Simply cool though unrehearsed

He. The boy who could capture
A shooting star with his bare hands
Tell him, my satellite of a heart
is starting to orbit around his
Like a planet to the sun.

A lawless comet,
Galaxies curiously watch,
Cosmic boom alarms!

I know the light blue will carry us home. Our destination is hazy and it's blurred but we find it anyway. Our resting place is soft atop the unapologetically bare branches. A few times ago I'd have mistaken it for aggression as so seems the world when your heart and eyes and lungs are heavy but tonight I see its gentle pride. Warm light drips through the branches of tangerine love and our home is crystallizing in front of us. A cosmic show for no one but us and even we are not really the point. Slivers of glimmering truth fall away and it's natural to next see the paper mache love erupt into the black hole we had to know would consume us eventually. The stars are stuck in our throat and between our teeth and how can we be sad about the dark when we felt the entire universe pulsing inside us. I remember our beginning you know. It was dark and it was green and the sacred unity of it all brings tears to my terrible mutilated face. The bench is cold and the night is cold and I am cold but I can't bring myself to disentangle my soul from the electric night. I will sit here all night and lose feeling finger by finger if it means I can remember the way we were.