How did we meet?
...
Once upon a time,
I used to get drunk
on my porch and listen
to the songs of all the flying creatures.
Then order shitty pizza from around the corner
so I could flirt with the cute delivery lady
with the most fascinating features.
Now, I want your sweat to drip into my pores.
Turning my heart into a chemical
that science can only identify as yours.
A couple of moonlit postcards,
adrift beneath firefly skies.
We only seem to exist to
be each other’s butterflies.
We even have a little mantra,
something cool, something hip.
A relationship is a thread that must never be stripped.
A kiss is a grip that must never slip.
Sex is the one section you must not ever skip.
Love is a ship you must try not to flip.
About the Creator
Kale Ross
Author | Poet | Dog Dad | Nerd
Find my published poetry, and short story books here!
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis6 days ago in Humans
Comments (4)
We only seem to exist to be each other’s butterflies. 💜💜💜
I feel the love beat! Keep doing what you're doing; it's tasty!
wonderful !
I clicked on this title because I found the photo so cute, but your poem was even more wonderful. Beautiful work, Kale.