i’ve heard that the blood in our veins
is a different color than it is when
it flows out and is touched by oxygen;
that it is a suffocated purple on the inside,
and a vivid, blooming red on the outside.

i don’t know if it’s true, but i have to wonder
if that’s the way it feels to fall in love.

i’ll run the tips of my fingers
through your shaggy hair
and not once will i regret
the feeling of your breath
heightened, moist, and warm
against my neck and earlobes
as i give myself over to you

and when we are done
the earth will resume its habit
of spinning and circling the sun
and we will drift off to sleep
wrapped up in one another
saying our good-nights
through our bodies alone

i wish i was a stronger swimmer
so i could cross the ocean that
rushed in to keep us apart
but i’ve always been afraid
of those frigid, angry rip tides
and the idea of being pulled under
because i already know that
when it comes to sink or swim
i might as well be an anchor

god willing,
you would lace your fingers
with my own, and not cringe
at my skin’s sand paper feel

instead,
you would raise my hand
to your soft, cautious lips
as you tell me not to fear

when you are cold 
and forgetting all of the good 
that exists in the world
i hope you will come to me 
while your tears are still fresh
and i will trace the veins in your wrist
with my meager finger tips until you 
can remember your reasons for smiling
because god knows we could all use
a small reminder from time to time
that someone cares too much
to ever let us suffer alone

and i hope that someday
you and i can swirl
all our colors into one
and live in whatever
muddied tone it results in
together 

to memorize the curve
of your crooked spine
with my cool, eager fingertips
is a task i readily accept

it will be no challenge for me
the smooth expanse of your back
pulls me in again and again and again
like the undertow of a stormy sea

i will allow my lungs to fill
with everything you are
and everything you are not
and be awed by all you’ve given me

and at the end of the day
as i lie in a space that is ours alone 
with my forehead pressed 
between your shoulder blades

i will no longer contemplate
how long it takes to memorize a face
or the reasons why people build fences
instead of candlelit paths

synchronized, my breath will catch up with yours