weightless currents

it was raining the day we met,
i remember the whispers of gold drizzle  
tapering along the sidelight
as it washed over the derelict walls that held the dreams
of unkept souls.

i remember the rain on the soft of your hair
weightless,
outlining everything that took my breath away;
the air tasted like booze and earth.

the rain has never stopped,
pouring out its centre through the scape of 
heavy emotions,
giving weight to all.

it is a weight of my head on your shoulder
as we breathe to one another stories that
form rings and coil themselves into the air
until all we breathe is of each other.

i have seen the way
the delicate sleeves of morning skies 
unfurl at the end of your slumber
kissing your eyelashes as they 
flutter into another day.

i have seen these eyelashes
flutter in protection over
angry eyes, dry and tormented
when hurt tasted like stomach acid and tobacco.

i have felt the inability to look at you.
our eyes divert behind furious quakes 
that shake the bridge of our consciousness.
i have climbed your walls
as many times as i have built mine,
but somehow there is always a boat 
by the river under our bridge
where we float in silence until our eyes
meet
and the walls wane to the furious quake’s final shudder.

i have grown to understand the ability
of falling asleep with you
and staying awake without.

i recite the mental notes in my head,
and sometimes i do it aloud
overturning my reality of everything i know,
including you
and all the ways i have grown to love you.

when the relentless storms pass,
i remember you.

the rise of your nose,
the fall between your lips 
shying into a smile,
the way your whole body floats on every cloud of a breath.

i remember your stunning gaze
as you searched for my truths,
my hopes, my agony
and my all
between cigarette papers and
warm mugs gone cold.

the way your arms tingle when they meet
delicate friction, and the rough ends of your guitar fingers 
do not represent your gentlest touch.

i have mapped out the geometrical landscape of your back
and dreamt on the plains of your chest as you 
slept in metronomic sighs.

i remember you in utter completion,
and i waver in relief.

i imagine for our love to
age like a favourite book, 
the pages of our story
will curl at the edges, creased at the spine
from experience and good use.

i want to collect every fragment of your
buried hopes
and present them to you in different disguises,
until they become the new hope
that will always remind you of who you are.

there is much more to life
than poems and shadow puppets,
than routine chocolate and jokes that
always bring out a laugh,
than the usual mistakes, the unforgivable buzz in the room
when there are no words left to say,
there is much more to our regularities,
but there is nothing more wholesome
than the way our eyes 
meet 
and love is everything.

the rain will fall again,
cold upon my fingertips,
just like the night we met
when our eyes were tired and 
our breath formed clumps of December air
and we grew to listen to our
minds yearning for the warmth and solace of another.

we are tidal waves,
forever on the rise and fall of life’s equator,
but no matter how heavy we crash
on foreign shores,
we will always find ourselves
as one whole form

at the centre of the sea.

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