Love and Imperfection

We strive to touch the stars;
we reach for them.
We crave to hold them in our palms
but we often forget that
stars have sharp ends.

When we get pinched,
we doubt that what we have is a star.
“This can’t be it;
this can’t be all I’ve dreamed of.”

So, we release it;
we let it go.
We begin to confuse ourselves.

We tell ourselves that a moon
can make a better star
because it doesn’t look like
it has sharp ends,
but the moon usually ends up being
either too big for us to carry
when it is full,
or sharper than the star
when it has proper blades-
when it is a half-moon or a crescent.

When we get hurt again,
when reality sets in once more,
we move to the sun.
We say-
“the sun looks more stable;
it’s far better than the rest”,
but we usually get burned instead.

We return to the star
in a worse condition
than we would have been
if we had been patient,
if we had stayed with it,
but it may or may not
let us hold it in our palms again.
It may or may not take us back.

So has it been with many things;
so has it been with love.

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Self Lust

Self Love.png

michael escoffery

Suddenly, there two of me.
The second me came out of me,
as if I had painlessly birthed her.
She looked more beautiful,
and she had a penis.

Then I, me, the other me,
began to make love to me.
I had never experienced anything like it,
like the intense pleasure that I felt.
I wasn’t sure if I alive or dead;
it was all very confusing.

Daydreams

The most beautiful dreams
are the ones we create ourselves,
with open eyes and unconscious smiles.

Staring at something,
or at everything;
looking at one thing,
but seeing different things.