Hey stupid.
I'm smiling while I write this.
Kinda wanting to type this.
So, here goes nothing?

My forever.
That's a long time huh?
I know..
It's strong, huh?
Longer then infinity.

Your eyes.
Most people might say "They're just a regular color."
Most people might say, "It's nothing special"
I say, "but if those yes were to tell a thousand words... 3 of them would be 'I love You'."
I say, "If i could count every ripple in your iris, I would"

Your heart.
It's like our favorite color, vibrant
Our favorite song, anything.
Our favorite word, darling
Our favorite thing, your love

Your soul.
Every time you speak, I laugh or smile
Every time you look at me, I loudly love
Kindness isn't the only thing that draws me to you.
The way you hold on to my heart makes me think I'm saved.

You.
Sun
Moon
Sky
City
Northern lights
Do you know what they have in common?
You.
Each and every place that's as beautiful as my eyes can witness, makes me think of you.

Space.
The stars.
The manipulation of galaxies.
How they twist and turn
mix and light up.
It's like us.
I could only imagine how you make my little star heart feel.

The journey.
The lessons.
The connection?
It all makes me want to feel every part of you.

(from "To: Mimi Romanelli"

~indebted to suggestion of
https://hellopoetry.com/MacGM/
for filling me up one of the trillions of missing datapoints
in my slowly diminishing insights & missing knowledges
<>
"I am happy, Dear, to have walked with steady faith on the waters of our uncertainty all the way to that island which is your heart and where pain blossoms. Finally: happy."

from the poem by Rilke
"To: Mimi Romanelli"
see notes

'~~~'
so worthy of my/our attentions,
his reflections on loss, grief and mortality,
for in the natural course of this poet's story,
the interplay of this shopping list of preoccupations,
foremost on this temporal frontal lobe in these waning days
of my perhaps, last summery summary,
that falls upon your eyes with
my guilt that you have clicked upon
this e~pistle, in and un~
tentionally & tensionally
thus demanding & tendering post-haste
my apology

so be advised, be learned, and query why
an essay on ending mortality should be
be finished with a concluding a
"Finally: happy."
by breaching this poet Rilke essay,
one discovers
this poet see through the storms of his preoccupations,
"the red of his blood,"
because he loves
another human, being,
so many would agree,
yet so few are so certain,
as Rilke,
and yet,

"It is still always that death which continues inside of me, which works in me, which transforms my heart, which deepens the red of my blood, which weighs down the life that had been ours so that it may become a bittersweet drop coursing through my veins and penetrating everything, and which ought to be mine forever.

And while I am completely engulfed in my sadness, I am happy to sense that you exist, Beautiful. I am happy to have flung myself without fear into your beauty just as a bird flings itself into space. I am happy, Dear, to have walked with steady faith on the waters of our uncertainty all the way to that island which is your heart and where pain blossoms.
Finally: happy."


<>
Writ the last week of August,
and the first of September
2025

Since a year and nine months before my first birthday I've been unwanted
The only way for me to not feel unwanted
Is to not be around for unwanted to be an option
Watch that be the day I am finally wanted
And they'll have the nerve to say, "this is not what we wanted."

©2024

A lost grip,
Another familiar slip
Running parallel with a predictable confidence dip
Regardless of every other absorbed hit
No one's record is perfect
It was bound to become evident
Taking a toll
Beginning to show
Worried life will dole out more trouble than one should be expected to tow
Stashed in the back of a mind is the knowledge it's possible
Work to avoid the void of a logic loophole that feeds the unreasonable
While acknowledging life cares so very little
About a big ol' white flag run up a pole

©2024