In response.

Your words hang over this page like a cloud trying to let out its pour.
Like a fury full of nothing but adoration.
(and maybe a tall glass of red wine and quiet tears.)

Why do you hold yourself back in your emotion towards his own
inability to understand?

Do you secretly fear it is not in his hands?

Or are you always waiting for something to go wrong,
because it always has.
But only in the past.

Please continue to go through love the only way you know how,
heart unfurled,
arms wide open,
eyes holding only to the warm of his gaze,

of his hands.

Because that is how you shine.

But, my insatiable star,
if you choose to hold onto this with the diligence of your own silent passion,
deciding to love with a beautifully composed restraint,
Do it knowing it is always standing right in front of you,


he just has a hard time finding the words.

eyes closed.

inhale, heart unfurled,
tasting spring on the edge of his kiss.
the salt of his skin.

(these are the moments i hold)
somewhere between my head and my palm.

his fingertips full of promises,
his eyes holding my breathing.

endless tomorrow,
constant we,
building the foundation
of everything that settles my restless spirit.

I couldn't live without his glance,
his strength,
his balance....

those hands.

silent rain.

keep your head up sister.

here hold my hand,
lets walk through the clouds..

look into your hands,
see all the lines of your path,
your living,

you only
grow
and
grow.

somewhere between you head and feet
is that heart
unable to make this any easier.

but you are on your way,
you know what to do,
just keep seeing things in the right color.

TOGETHER.

.sinew.

you hold things which unclose people within your fingertips.
you catch emotion and translate it in a form that carries more depth than words.
(who are you?)

you carry more emotion than your frame can handle and your hands could ever render..
constantly defining, constantly showing how things look through your eyes
(made of the clearest water.)

you bleed through the end of that brush, effortlessly traslating
a face that I cannot look away from.
eyes that I swear are looking into me.
(where did you come from?)

I'm happy to have you beside me on this constant evolution of chasing the only thing that fuels our spirits.
redefining success and composing faith in our own religion of movement.
of change.
because we won't settle for anything but flowers.
and tears.
and paintings.
and translating a heart in it's own breathing.
because this is all that matters.
it's all there is left to believe in.

this
is
living.


and

YOU
my dear brother,
are
GLORIOUS.


never look down.
know how amazing you are.

Lullaby

a beautiful presence,
a silent goodbye,
too early you left us,
your grace will not die.

sweet eyes full of fury
pale hands full of scars
no longer your breathing,
with your hands full of stars.


strong heart.
endless heart.
sweet heart.

you now speak in silence,
your voice has not gone.
you left with the moonlight,
and the snow fell at dawn.

our hands felt so weak,
still theres nothing to say,
in her dreams you will speak,
we'd all give anything for just one more day.

strong heart.
brave heart.
the most beautiful heart.

our rock,
our Beau.

my daily love.

oh dear.
holder of things that I could never give words.

this all makes so much sense.
you make sense.
I am never wondering.
because there isn't any need.

just keep walking beside me, saying nothing and so much
with only your palm holding my heart.
so gently.
down this road full of constant renewal,
endless falling in love
over and over and over again.

I am never tired of watching everything that comes together
to compose the only person in this whole world that will ever completely understand
me.
the only person whose arms fit so perfectly around me.

husband.
friend.
everything.

words pale.


thank you.

I am so glad
for that cold night we finally were able to focus on eachothers glance.

waiting for you felt like forever,
and now I feel like I could never have enough time.
never
enough
time.

I absolutely adore you.

..Harrison Street, 11:30, Sunday..

"It's still the priciple",
he said as he cleaned the pouring rain off of our windows.
I couldn't help but cry as I sat there with my dry socks and full belly.

I still couldn't look up.

The sound of the squeegee moving slowly across every window seemed to hum
one of the saddest songs I have ever heard.

I keep seeing the way his eyes looked up hopeful as our headlights lit the black beneath his soaking feet,
squeegee in hand, ready to show willingness and to not completely surrender to being a beggar.
Still trying to take some sort of pride in even his most desperate moment.

His eyes looked so humble and his voice sounded so normal,
no shake, no chaos.
Just sadness.
These are the ones that you want to look back at when you leave,
the ones that don't seem like they should be there,
in the cold, in the gravity of their own reality.

We just keep moving,
and they continue to stand still,
waiting for the next opportunity to barely get by.

..ode to Brooklyn, Reno..

do you have any idea what you hold in your hands?

I swear there is a light surrounding your every gesture,
full of things that keep me in constant wonder,
wanting to always know more, wanting you always beside me,
because you are the only person I know that has perfected
flying with your feet placed firmly in the ground.
oh
you
you
you.
thank you for your solitude.
your constance.
I can't imagine anything without you..
because you feel so much but move through painlessly.
how?
I'm pretty sure you don't know.
just your own struggle of grace.your own redefined preseverance.
you move mountains with a blink of your lashes, and change worlds effortlessly.
you.
you.
you.
thank you for having me.
I couldn't do it without you.

My daily bread.

Today feels heavy,
it already feels like years and the sun only became warm a few hours ago.
Almost mocking me.
Holding a firm grip on my heart, making me feel like there is something I need to say,
but can't find the words.
I can't even define the feeling.
It isn't bad, or good.

Just strong.

Is it my own creation, a spirit that I decided to breathe life back into because I know it is the substance I am lacking.
My own passion finally able to take refuge, on this blank screen full of only potential..
My own translation of what travels through my veins,
and then bled through the light tapping of these keys.
Release, breathe.
Only to allow my chest to feel light again, full of life and breath.
Keeping this shelter going,
home of my soul.

my daily bread.

I woke up this morning before my eyes did, so heavy, closed tight with the
hope of more dreams,
more
aching.
I gave in a little.
I just lay still, quiet, listening to all of the life outside my window.

Its a constant struggle here for eveyone.
for everything there is an intention,
a motive,
because it all takes a little bit more work, but most people here revel in that glory.In that pusuit.

so do I..

lately, tho, I have slowed down, catching myself making wishes on dandelions and striking up conversations with men selling dollar newspapers with the saddest eyes I have ever felt...

I am seeing peoples eyes when I talk to them and the way they dance around the room instead of meeting mine,

and looking in at my new neighbors window, and how they have so much stuff to unpack, but if our eyes collide, they look away, or maybe I did. I don't even know their names.

This city, this neighborhood, this apartment, all the people, constant people, constant noise from cars racing down Fell St, the dog one floor above us crying all day long for the only thing he loves in the whole world to come home.

I realize that despite all of this, this city is so small, full of heart, and rain, and bits of sunshine...
full of everything that I never want to leave, but fear that I can't always stay.

I hope to have a child here, showing them that life isn't always easy, you must always pursue it.
And good people aren't easy to find, you must always hold onto them.
And you must always smell the flowers because sometimes you can go blocks and blocks without seeing another.
And always look for stars, because when you see them, you have to hold your gaze on them, because they probably won't see them tomorrow.
And always recycle, look how much people throw away.
And that God and grandmas live in the clouds where the sun breaks through.
And its true what they say, big things come in the smallest of packages,
I hope for a family in this tiny apartment.
And just that thought alone is too big to hold.

But, I also would like to grow old here, so that I am never lonely.
Because I think that is all there really is when lines are finally equal with your smiles.
Time. and people. and family, and stars. and grandmas.

I think today will be good, because it is always good when the sun is shining and there are more bikes than cars and everyone is sitting outside drinking their coffee.

Coffee.
with a little milk please.

thank you.