You remind me of the moon.
Your heart is full of craters but your soul – your soul defies gravity.
You’re a glow I want to bask in.
Like dark corners illuminated by streetlights.
You’re like the flame of a lighter at a rock concert,
shivering as it moves through the air but refusing to go out.
I want to go out with you.
I want dinner and a movie,
I wanna kiss you in the back row.
But I can’t.
We don’t do traditional,
Even though seeing you on the weekends is becoming my tradition.
A holiday I celebrate.
You’re my gift.
You touch me like I’m a present you want to unwrap so badly,
Like you want to say “fuck these ribbons and bows,”
and tear into me – but you don’t.
You start with the edges, instead.
Taking your time and enjoying the process, even if I’m begging you to open me.
Open me,
Put your finger tips on my skin,
Bury your face in my neck,
Your chest against my chest,
Wrapping paper strewn across the floor.
And when the celebrations over,
Lay with me.
Run your fingers through my hair,
Tell me I’m the best gift you’ve ever gotten,
Even if you don’t mean it.
Let me look at you in the glow of the night sky,
Stars reflected in your eyes the way you’re reflected in mine.
Let me tell you that you remind me of moonlight,
illuminating my soul.
Let me hold you close,
The way I should have held every song you ever wrote me.
I’m sorry I laughed that day,
I’m sorry that I didn’t understand what a song without lyrics meant,
But I do now.
It’s the plight of knowing a million words,
But none of them seem right.
So we use metaphors and dissonance,
Trying to find a way to explain this,
When no one could possibly explain this.
I’d never expect an explanation from Tchaikovsky, Schubert or Armstrong.
I’d never doubt Ellington, Miller or Gershwin.
And I never should have questioned you.
I want to make music with you,
It’s silly, I know.
It’s been said a million times,
By a million people,
But I want to write the sounds of your breath into my opus,
I want to shape your heartbeat into a hook that the whole fucking world will be humming.
They’ll think it’s catchy,
But they won’t know why.
The chorus will be full of silly metaphors that no one understands,
Like “you remind me of the moon.”

Written 3-26-17


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