jnhm

[jnhm]

i dipped a toe into your water and the ripples shook my reflection /// but you

were more

and you

are so expansive

my reflection is no match

for the tsunami that engulfs me.

[jnhm]

i’m getting used to the distant sirens that interrupt the day or night, but not the unsettling feeling of having one foot out the door– because nothing feels certain anymore and nothing feels guaranteed, and i’m hearing these ambulances, these cops, these fire trucks, alarm bells ringing in my ears– down to the matter, and fluttering in my belly is “I have to go I have to go I have to go I have to go”

is this cabin fever?

is this more?

is this less?

where to anyway?

(july 31, 12:30AM)

I used to dream of things like this, when everything smells like oranges and the sunlight never ends. Coming from somewhere only the the moon knows, coming from someone who never stumbles, I wish so desperately for softness. In words, in touch, in action. And now, here I am. At the precipice of it all, bearing my own softness like an old stuffed animal, bursting cotton at the seams –not wanting to step any further than this.

Because I had that thing, I held that moment before and I don’t know if I will again in the same way where the future is illuminated.

I remember the flashes of gold across your dashboard, your backlit smiling face towards mine, the wind rushing through the slightly open windows.

It almost smelled like oranges.

Almost.

There were long shifts. Good nights’ work. Those times were punctuated by the daylight on my drives back and forth. I step out into the parking lot and all I can do next is settle briefly into the driver’s seat, all I can do, all I have left after pouring out my care was to feel the sunrise start creeping up my cheeks like blush. I close my eyes and 

It almost smelled like oranges.

Almost.

Who am I to ask for these moments again and again? Someone who plays all their cards too early in the game. But what am I but a bad gambler with good luck?

(november 19, 7PM)

[jnhm]

if every movement is a prayer

then my pen should be praying enough for the both of us.

then every breath held should mean something different

that every twitch in a dream brings us closer to a blessing.

my heartbeat prays while I sleep. my bloodcells —a river for my requests.

if every movement is a prayer

I am setting up an altar with each metabolic reaction, I am taking a leap of faith each millisecond.

[jnhm]

‪he fell from the sky‬

‪and into my open palms,‬

‪melted fingerprints.‬

[jnhm]

you are the reflection of christmas lights against damp pavement.

you are the ghost of christmas past, when the tree was set up by the family

and not just you

alone.

you are the crisp morning, the sound of imaginary jingle bells

and the hollow laughter

downstairs

on christmas day.

you are the early setting sun,

the sleeping plants;

may you wake once more in spring.

[jnhm]

#micropoetry

[jnhm]

27 years of yesterdays.

I’m tipsy with yesterdays. Yesterday’s dreams yesterday’s memories yesterday’s accomplishments.

So today, I sleep off the hangover and wake tomorrow.

[jnhm]

somehow, after all this time the sky remains a secret between it and i.

[jnhm]

i’m just happy to keep meeting you.

[jnhm]

i don’t dream as much as i used to he doesn’t know that

i like that he tells me his.

[jnhm]

i’m scared you’ll taste the salt on my skin and realize i am not as sweet as you had hoped.

[jnhm]

YOU & I

you

are the opposite of quiet and for some reason that makes it all the more better.

you

make my stomach sound like crinkled up tissue paper making me feel like a gift that waits in anticipation to be opened

& i

don’t know where this is going but right now i don’t care.

[jnhm]

i have grown to like the quiet you bring

[jnhm]

eulogy

a renegade in all the softest ways patron saint of loving behind closed doors moral compass made of earth’s molten core dedicated to rounding out like a pebble at a riverbed

[jnhm]

&

Heat rose up like champagne bubbles into a tinkle of laughter I hadn’t heard in years.

[jnhm]

[  ]

i was left alone with you (again)

and we laughed and spoke of old times– wine sloshing lazily in our glasses,

and i wondered in what universe we were

more.

❝❞

i may forget your birthday but i will never forget what you said to me

under the light of the early spring’s full moon bursting forth through my blinds creating gashes across my damp palms–

reminding me that i should never be left alone with you

(again)

[jnhm]

softer and softer still, louder and louder it gets, growing and growing i keep on going;

filling in the blanks with a little more blanks and laughter and glowing i keep on going.