the boys who bleed flowers and fire…

the boys who bleed flowers and fire

he’s got
a little mischief
in his smile and
a little wild in his eyes,
but there’s bleeding
in that heart
and a whole lot of
passion in that soul,
and he doesn’t just
make you feel things…
he lets himself feel
it all, too.

– the boys who bleed flowers and fire

– butterflies rising

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the closest heartbeat…

sometimes,
we just can’t come close
and not get hurt. this life.
it can be so hard for lovers here…
our hearts hidden
in heavy human stories,
our hearts wrapped up in so much hurt.
and you bruise each other at the touch…
and you both go a little mad along the way.
so what you feel… it lives in soul places.
and how you love,
it’s in distant heartbeats.
and how you hope, my god
how you hope
that maybe, just maybe,
there is some other way,
in some softer place, in some kinder time
where you find a way to break. through.
and you can unbreak yourselves,
and unbreak your hearts,
and you can unfold into love,
and they can fall into you,
and you can feel them in the
closest heartbeat.

– butterflies rising

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just a little…

i can get a little reckless when my heart is restless

and maybe,
sometimes i back up
just a little,
just to breathe…
to steady in me.
and maybe, sometimes,
my fingers will untangle
just a little,
just to feel…
how to be mine, all mine.
and maybe,
i can get a little reckless
when my heart is restless,
but it’s still always yours,
all yours.

– butterflies rising

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the priceless things…

nothing feels as rich, as expensive, as being held by hands laced in respect

nothing feels
as rich, as expensive,
as being held by hands
laced in respect,
strong hands
that can be soft hands
and slow hands
against your skin
like flowers, like curiosity…
and eyes that mean what they say
when they say all those things
that eyes say… like,
it’s safe here.
and there’s truth here.
and there’s depth in here.
and full. attention.
that undeniable,
can’t not. must have.
ache for you, ache for this…
nothing. but. this.
kind of aching in you,
reaching for an aching me…

those are the priceless things,
give me your priceless things.

– butterflies rising

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