Member Poem

I love the way we zone out
during the most useless parts of the day
to watch the rain wash down our windows,
wondering whether Dickinson or Whitman
ever imagined a little universe
bursting into existence

in every raindrop like we do.
When the big bang plays
over and over again within
the rain - each droplet breaking
and unbreaking
until one planet gets it right, we both know
it’s more momentous than earning
minimum wage. You smile

and I smile as you appear
in the doorway like a breath
of dandelions. The sun takes
it’s final curtsey to the crowd
of clouds and I flap the wings
hidden beneath my button-up.

Rip these pages from it’s notebook
under the purple sky
and we’ll stuff them in our chests
next to the antique pens. Let me see
that certain glow of yours
that you and Hermione share
when you’re both in the library

and I’ll understand more and more
that most men will never really know
the true definition of beauty.
Stand on the tip of your toes
and meet me in that surreal field
of white flowers where none of anything
really matters. With your chin
in rest on my chest, I’ll notice
that you’ve left eraser shavings
next to the faint pencil marks
that used to be my jagged
edges. You’ll take a deep breath

and exhale the day’s stresses
like cigarette smoke, whispering
histories and philosophies
from every different dimension
into my ear. For that brief
instant, I’ll step away
from the smell of green tea
on your skin

to look into the blue
and yellow solar system
behind your eyes. All our friends,
everyone from the birds
swimming in the trees
to the grass in circles around our feet
nod in agreement
that we’ve both been counting
down in our heads

like two rockets before liftoff
ever since our first slow
dance under that big tree
when you showed me
how to drink from the stars
from down on Earth.