I want a man whose heart is so full -
Rainwater dripping from the pitcher on the drizzled grey of yesterday,
A soft sound in the great symphony of the wet garden,
Bejeweled and glistening,
Pianoforte drops
Upon the wet leaves
Falling.

I will know him by the way he writes, the kindness in his eyes -
Flashes of him in my professor,
In myself, caught laughing like a child,
In the quiet teenager who is becoming an
Unlikely philosopher, frontal cortex in heat,
With the implications of existence
(He’s awake in the early dawn, a furious Jacob,
wrestling with his God)

And he will be a Seeker of Beauty:
“There is no medium unworthy”
He will tell me, but never in words,
Crouching for perfection’s grace among leaves and dirt
Like a widow beneath rainbow fractals
At early morning’s mass.

He will be effortless, like the unspoken love
Between two old friends, bookends
Scattering crumbs of baguettes in the park
To clicking beaks, and dancing pigeon feet.

Burying himself in pages, when he thinks no one sees
(Was that you there, on the subway?
Dark eyes, fixated on the lines,
Crinkling with understanding?)

Both of us adventurous spirits -
“Let’s run away, you and me” and we will
Melt with ease into cityscapes, so transparent, adaptive,
Young and free,
Like the wood moths becoming one
With the aspen in its serenity,
We light upon
France, Spain… Italy.

I know I will find him
In my own verse.
Will discover him
In pages that I’ve turned.
Will recite his thoughts back to him, and will
Love him like poetry.
I will know him by heart.

As of Life,
As of Death
First you run,
Then you rest

You made it
onto my paper
from
in between my ribs
to
in between my lines
&
all I can do
is sharpen my pencil
every time
I reach the end
of each stanza

Don't let her faze you
Just think about me boo
Let's ignore her
And let's think about each other

If I had enough wits to fly,
I'd like to escape the sky,
I'd leave in mid-June,
wave bye to the moon
whilst riding a huge firefly.

I'm glad that you are mine
I love that you are SO fine.
Being with you brings me joy
Your beauty makes me blush like a little boy.

I tell him that three of his freckles disappeared today and that I can’t help but notice that his eye twitches twice before he falls asleep.
He sometimes wakes up to an empty bed at 2 in the morning. It is not because I can’t feel comfortable with his legs tangled in mine but, because I found the sight of not knowing where my body ended and his began so poetic.  
Some days, I feel as if I’m living life in the shadows. Always noticing but never seen, are words supposed to scream this loud?
He says that when we kiss, he has to dust the commas and colons off of my eyelid and that he repeats his sentences four times because he knows that during the first I was catching a thought, preventing it from flying away and that when he speaks for the second I’m trying to take notice of the exact degree he tilts his head and that by the third I’ve already crafted a stanza about the way he licks his lips in the cold.
I tell myself that I will not carry a pen wherever I go, but it doesn’t matter because on certain days, even my bone marrow writes poetry about the cells dying and being born in my blood – supernovae of molecule scale.
My brother tells me that my quadratic equations are written in limerick form and that he does not know why I’m taking Calculus and Statistics if I already know a formula for the perfect novel.
The truth is, I don’t know why I notice the way my love wrings his hands twice when I ask him where he’s been – is that lavender I smell?
I know that he tells me the truth, but the other voice in my head can’t help but make me ask him why he drank his coffee with milk instead of creamer today.
He tells me that he loves me by holding me far too tight when I’m sad, so that he can crush the blue out of me and by barely touching me when I’m happy, afraid that he’ll break my spirits, he knows that my pink is a Porcelain Doll – fragile.
*He doesn’t use any words, and for once, this is enough for me.