as I swim inside these eyes,
I hope our
gravity
keeps me here—
pressed against a chair,
swaying to
my heart beat,
trying not
to wrestle free
and float away.
words lose meaning when you
can’t hear them and
have none to read—
when life shows you language
is nothing more than a layer,
a common interpreter of
yours and mine and many unique
experiences
and feelings
paid in microseconds.
just like that,
we’re 13 years in
and
exactly where we
wanted to be:
staring into our eyes
and seeing the decades ahead,
and those we’ve learned from to
be exactly where we
wanted to
be:
able to close our eyes
and know we’ll wake up
together, still.