this is just a collection of ish that i'd rather not forget

Few Words, Many Thoughts: what writers mean when they say "i love you" »


Sea otters hold hands while sleeping so they don’t float apart

in the midst of dreaming, but in my mind my phantom hand

clutches yours all the time, even when I’m off on the other side

of the world doing book tours for a novel in which every page

was written about you. The other night on TV Neil degrasse Tyson

spoke about the birth and death of stars, but every time I stared

into the grainy shots of black holes parading across the screen,

all I saw was the vortex of your mouth when you sucked me into it.

My literary agent warns me profusely to stop penning poems

related to the whorl of your ear, but what he doesn’t appreciate

is that no one else in this gigantic universe will ever have

so much poetry written about a single body part.

If I lean in close enough, I can hear the ocean.

In my daydreams, sitting at a desk in a stuffy cubicle

surrounded by stacks of Hemingway and Voltaire, I’m kissing

your left elbow in Times New Roman, the inside of your right knee

in Helvetica point 16. It’s not uncommon that I want to spellcheck

each and every place my mouth has touched.

My readers recite my poems underwater in swimming suits

two sizes too big, get drunk and stage impromptu readings

in pool chairs. If I were where you are right now,

I could go through every masterpiece in my repertoire

simply by whispering your first and last name.

“I hope that one day you will have the experience of doing something you do not understand for someone you love.”

– Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close  (via cybergirlfriend)

"For a heart beats the best in a bed beside the one that it loves"

“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.”

– Salvador Plascencia