Category: Writing in Love

For the subtle moments.

Abstract Artist

I’m in love with a stranger.

He is a painter.

He paints in articulate words and vivid colors,

And I find comfort in his unfamiliarity–

It captures my image of what bold should be–

Like the edges of his skin when I touch him–

But he stands behind a door without a number,

And it rests at the end of my sight,

So I continue to move towards something that is, and isn’t, there.

I am in love with a stranger,

And he is a painter.

You Found Me

My eyes hold the dark

Like an open tomb

My mouth cries out

For someone to look at me—

I hear the boards creak.

I feel the walls crack

As dust fills my nose

And the floors shake

Like an earthquake.

Light crawls through the spaces

And my body relaxes.

I am not alone in this darkness.

I see you standing beside the rubble

Looking at me,

Waiting with an open hand,

And I begin again.

I push my body through the pieces of concrete,

And reach.

Your eyes found me.

Your hands took mine,

And we left this place.

This place of dry bones and fallen things.

Rainy Days

It’s raining and my mind

Is a blur of blue and green

And brown and black

Sitting next to you, I watch the windows reflect

The rain painting the panes,

And take your hands to dance.

I want to dance in the puddles

Until the earth stains our clothes

And covers our bodies.

I smell the freshness,

Feel the texture on my skin,

And let the coolness fall.

The rain falls.

I fall,

But you catch me.

I am a part of this world,

And a part of yours,

So let’s dance in the puddles

Together.