pebbles are hitting my windows
they crackle then drip down
Are you up late again? I am,
but it’s because of that we were able to cross paths

I hear you like clouds without rain
the color green
playing in the landscape of our mutual imaginations
What have you ‘seen’?
I mean, what do you think
of these awkward machinations?
Bashful patience turns to brazen flirtation
and rain to libations
subject to subjective curation

Engrossed in the mysteries you’ve hidden,
I flip flippant through pages—
love-bitten, type-written
I sit in constant search of your truth displayed naked,
I witness a new birth of a new self
—Will they make it?

I thought I’d put up a good fight,
asking for
a hint, a sign,
a hint, a sign,

but more importantly—you have been picking up on mine,
right?
The clouds tap on my windows to
come outside, come outside and play.
Do you swear you’ll remember,
you promise you know?

that we are
two people,
one universe?