Dear Love,
your voice is the sound of pages
I’ve been waiting to read my entire life
like run on sentences
in a book too perfect to end
tell me
how do you shackle power to punctuation
If I could
I would end this poem with a period
or place a comma in the places I need
to catch my breath
but you
will only rush to the tips of my fingers
you see love
will only leak
from the pores in my skin
like the sounds of many waters
flooding its way from Noah’s Ark
you shelter me
like an infant
carefully encased in its mother’s womb
before language existed
before there was ever a need of capital letters
dear captain
you chose us
before there was a thing called history
sucking at its mother’s breast
we are nurtured by the past
to understand the future
Dear Love,
you are the answer to every question
and the sound of your mercy
is the only thing worth setting my alarm clock to
so I’ve chosen to reverence you this way
with outstretched pieces of paper
and ink pens
and a medley of words
all purposed to form the letters of your name
all destined to sing your praise
with no punctuation
no commas
or periods
or apostrophes
just run on sentences
limitless
like sign language I don’t remember learning in Public School
and while my tongue clings to the roof of my mouth
while my heart waits
I’ll write you poems
in the form of prayers
on the palms of my hands
and I’ll leave them running
like fountains of compassion
overflowing the levees of thought
I’ll leave them open
unedited
unrevised
and grammatically incorrect
so you’ll read me
like you always do
and never forget what my heart looks like
with no punctuation
because all the world has ever needed
was love.