1885 c/o Chuck Young

falling in love is like being given this super strong flashlight / & the weight of it feels so right in your hand / & you turn it on & are able to see the darkest places inside yourself / for seemingly the first time / & it makes you go “oh shit i really gotta spruce up the basement of me”/ & you either do that scary-ass work / or you panic & press the off button / & throw it in the cobwebby corner / with the other ones / & i’m not sorry that this is what alive feels like / a throb not too dissimilar to the first days / after getting a tattoo / a constant reminder that you’re thinking about forever / & have very recently done something reckless about it / like kissed the ice of your coffee-cold mouth / under the smoldering tip of a lit marlboro red sun / there is a clavicle in your tangerine flowerbed / & upon its ridge is where i’d build a temple / to happily live the rest of my days at worship / or gazed upon you small & unfolded in the paper doilies of morning light / mummified in my sheet / a grandmother’s ghost floating above her old bed / like felt your heartbeats pulse in my temples / the sound of faint footsteps down the hall / cherubs rejoicing in their escape / or been reminded by the crack of your bones / of afternoons spent skipping flat rocks on a calm lake / there is simply no better love than this heaven inside me / when i get to share it with you