Almost Overflowing

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Sunlight on Wood

I'd rather have you expand, take it all, consume in an instant, leave without hesitation any crumbs. Never will you have to worry as time and space to me are not a competition or a zero-sum game. Our time and space, it is multiple dimensions, it is cheating the law of ultimate energy conservation, it is me taking me for a ride, it is me letting me ride me, it is us growing gently out of our meager bounds, it is us breaking our glass ceilings into manifold shards, it is compounds that melt into a spectrum, bits of refracting surround ranges of light, it is glimmers of beauty displayed on the sacred tall grounds of my foregone youth, of summer days quickly gone by. Our time and space, it is getting hurt, it is licking our own wounds and letting marigolds grow from our own thorns, It is letting them leak gold It is letting them ooze tar. It is me taking a torch, lighting myself on fire. It is rolling down your garden as your fingers run around your mouth and steal a blissful moan. New...
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Oh, Witness

I'd rather have you expand, take it all, consume in an instant, leave without hesitation any crumbs. Never will you have to worry as time and space to me are not a competition or a zero-sum game. Our time and space, it is multiple dimensions, it is cheating the law of ultimate energy conservation, it is me taking me for a ride, it is me letting me ride me, it is us growing gently out of our meager bounds, it is us breaking our glass ceilings into manifold shards, it is compounds that melt into a spectrum, bits of refracting surround ranges of light, it is glimmers of beauty displayed on the sacred tall grounds of my foregone youth, of summer days quickly gone by. Our time and space, it is getting hurt, it is licking our own wounds and letting marigolds grow from our own thorns, It is letting them leak gold It is letting them ooze tar. It is me taking a torch, lighting myself on fire. It is rolling down your garden as your fingers run around your mouth and steal a blissful moan. New...
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Don't Hold Me

To prove a point Is something he told me he did before we started dating last year two or so months ago, though he only knew that we were dating until after after we broke up. He went to see a friend, he stayed home, showed up late, he cuddled and danced romantically with many: all of it to gather evidence of his mysterious hypothesis which for me was worth at most a penny. He'd shake from the thought of not being by my side, but only if I was the one taking the first step of the race. Should he be the one to start a sprint his eyes would be full, watery, wet from tears of bliss. He'd dance, professionally, around the subject: his limbs, his hips, barely grazing mine. While mesmerizing to see I couldn't help but notice the performance I was tied up to see in its full plastic glory. The point itself does not interest me because its center is not me. What I cared about most were his actions, so alien but barely comforting to my feet. If life is all about proving points I don...
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