People always say that it hurts at night
and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am
is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken.
it’s 9am on a tuesday morning
and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up
And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl grey tea makes you miss him so much
you don’t know what to do with your hands.
You don’t have only one soul-mate.
If you did,
you would have married your best friend
three years ago.
She knows you
better than her right hand,
and she’ll listen to you cry
from eight states away.
You don’t have only one soul-mate,
because people wake up different parts of you—
parts you never even knew existed.
The boy when you were 15
taught you what it felt like
to get caught kissing in a closet
at the party you never should have been at
in the first place,
without his lips ever touching yours.
When you were 18,
a boy let you know what it’s like
to have your heart lodged in your throat,
because he’s moving 2,000 miles away,
And he won’t tell you when he’ll be back.
You wait until you’re 22
to get attached again,
and this time you feel it in every inch.
It’s as if you got struck by lightning—
the Lichtenberg figure crawls
up your arms and across your back,
like his hands on your skin
while you laid in bed together,
and you thought the thump of your heart
was in time with his.
You don’t have only one soul-mate;
Instead, you have soul-mates,
because your heart is huge
and you have the room.
Watching this (and fearing broken ankles with each loop) I can’t helping thinking about that old quote Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, except backwards and in high heels.
But no, if you watch closely you’ll see she doesn’t even step on the last chair. That means she had to trust that fucker to lift her gently to the ground while he was spinning down onto that chair. That takes major guts. I’d be pissing myself and fearing a broken neck if I were in her place. Kudos to her.
I can’t stop watching this.