my way of asking for your forevers…

burn out the stars with me - butterflies rising

i can’t say them.
i can’t say those three words.

i can’t say it in three words…
i can’t speak these things small.
i don’t feel these things ordinary.
and i can’t look at you and feel. these. things.
and fit them into predetermined patterns
and pre-ordered packages,
or practice how to speak them
in a rented ballroom,
or repeat them as a morning habit…
these are star things, and soul things,
and all of my everything, things…
so when you say…
do you, will you?
i do, and i will
but out here where it’s wild,
and up here where it’s infinite,
and in me where i feel you,
where i’ve always. felt. you…
even before this. and where i’ll feel you
after this, and beyond this…

so what i can’t say means nothing.
and it means everything.

and what i mean when i say to you…
burn out the stars with me

…that’s my way of asking for your forevers.

– butterflies rising

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in his sleep…

the way he speaks of me in his sleep

there are
things he holds
close, in the awake,
in the lucid,
things he feels, but he fears
how they might fall out so helpless,
so unarmed, so defenseless…
and god, how those walls
can make me question.

but then he dreams with an open chest,
and he tells me of what he’s sure of,
and that i can let my head rest,
‘cause this isn’t a small love,
and that most times it feels like too much love,
and so sometimes… he’s just afraid.

so my fears… they just fall quiet
with the way he speaks to me
in his sleep.

he may have a
hardened chest in the wake light,
but there are flowers in the moonlight,
and when his fears fall quiet…
there are all these things he feels
when his defenses are down.

– butterflies rising

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your soul things…

i want to know your wildfires

what makes you feel…
what makes you. feel. alive.
how is your breath stolen.
how. and when.
does this life give you arrhythmia.
what pulls at you so much that it hurts
not to chase it.
the dreams out there, the hopes in here.
the art, the words, the songs…
what shifts you.
that somewhere beautiful in this world
that calls to you in the early light…
those aching things that keep you up
so restless after midnight.
what takes you higher than this world,
what takes you deeper into your soul light…
all of those things…
i want to know. those. things…
show me all of your soul things

– butterflies rising

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