Dear really cute girl with a boyfriend
who I suspect doesn’t love her half
as much as I could if given the proper chance.
Hello, My name’s Keegan
and this may seem rather strange but
I’ve got this eye for shiny souls
and let me just say that yours sticks out
like a radioactive thumb in this 16th century
dungeon of a class room.
So what do you say we get away from this place?
away from the text books, and the street corners
and the 3 am drunken home stumblers.
Lets go somewhere and paint the town red.
I mean literally paint the town red,
brandishing razor sharp paintbrushes
we’ll carve 30 foot suicide notes into the wrists of skyscrapers.
and shadow box with God.
stealing some attention away from that sunrise.
and on those evenings, when the clouds come home late
and the stars linger just long enough for me
to appreciate the constellations in your eyes.
You blink, and your lashes become wings
that carry us into the sky.
As we sit on the moon
and share small talk conversations
with Nina Simone, and my Grandfather
trading stories of our travels,
and the burdens that we have left behind us
like bread crumbs for our children to follow.
So when it comes to the kids.
Let their first words, be their names
so from the beginning they’ll know what its like
to define themselves.
Let their feet sink into this earth
so that they may stay grounded
while growing fingers like leaves
we’ll grow on all fours, forget a family tree.
Be my ark angel. my first real kiss
a hand hold that feels like a ressurection
when you walk into the room.
And my heart becomes a rib-caged phoenix
singing fireball lullabyes to calm over
my uneasiness of my earth quaking legs.
I am shattering from the center
like a nuclear bomb in those train house knees
tangling lungs that are twisting the color of midnight.
we are dying here.
Our limbs are not made for such heavy gravity
For we are citizens of the heavens.
Hot air balloons replace our joints and bones
no wonder I get so high off your touch
it must be the helium in your bloodstream
or that hydrogen smile that you throw
like a boomerang at this broken space shuttle shell of a man.
That refuses to fly, or drive, or swim.
I just want to stay in that ocean hail stormed thunder
that we were birthed in. I just want to breathe you.
Fingertip trace weather patterns onto your skin,
inhale the hurricane in your lungs and
feel the calm after the storm move in.
Dear Boyfriend.
You better hold her tighter than your arm rest
in a crashing airliner. Beause if you don’t
I will wing walk my way onto that plane and fly her away myself.
Because she loves you enough to be honest
always wearing her heart on her sleeve
so I can see her face every time that she waves hello
or shakes my hand just to keep it pletonic
so don’t think I don’t recognize you.
In those wedding photos that you make take years from now.
As i stay at home with my own children
joyful as humanly possible, but still earthbound
without that hydrogen smile to lift my spirits.
it reminds me of what turbulence tastes like at 1 in the morning.
Dear God.
You said love isn’t selfish. It’s patient and perfect
and is the only real rule you ever gave us.
and I’m trying my hardest to not covent my neighbors wife
but their not even married, and she looks beautiful tonight.
Dear unattainable love.
If you ever find yourself alone
at a bus stop somewhere in brooklyn
with a lead heavy heart, and a craving for wings.
Write me a love poem on a kite
made from paperclips and old crossword puzzles
and wait for an evening when the sun is so blazing
that you could fry an egg on it.
Then let it fly.
Adressed to the boy with earthquake legs
signed sincerely, by the best co pilot this side of the atmosphere.
PS. Lying was never worth it.
I’ll see you on the other side.
