This is as much as I know about love:
being barefoot on the grass, unafraid of dirt,
gobbling cheap seafood tacos, unabashed by mess
talking about our potential loves in other regions in life,
learning comic relief songs for each other,
spoken prayers and promises.
Just sitting together, breathing air, a gift.
A pocket of quality time wrapped with a neat ribbon-bow,
only to be clumsily, dorkily spilled out
with bouncing contents and unraveling conversation.
A box within a box within a box, opened
and opened and opened, naturally.
(Call me your friend again, I wasn't ready).
My heart jitters not with butterflies
but rather hummingbirds, flickers of cool blue and green,
satisfied and yet flitting between thoughts unique
and I don't know where to look
because I was not ready for your
existence.
Serendipitous, spontaneous, satisfying, sweet.
You exist, like me. Your existence sets me free.
Hummingbirds and happiness, philosophy under the stars.
Extraverted hugs upon unprepared introverts,
who'd do anything for a second try
Loving you the way a girl adores a bird
humming high in the sky.
Ellen Huang (she/her) is an aro/ace 2nd generation Taiwanese American who writes poetry, cinema-inspired progressive devotionals, fairytale/folklore twists, and horror comedy. She is published in 80+ places such as Lanke Review, Tealight Press, Ghost City, miniskirt magazine, the aurora journal, horse egg, Vamp Cat, and Sword & Kettle Press, among others. She holds a BA in Writing + Theatre minor from Point Loma Nazarene University and reads for Whale Road Review. She also runs a blog where she explores the spirituality of favorite movies: worrydollsandfloatinglights.wordpress.com. She lives in San Diego with her pan roommate, where they may or may not enjoy scary stories in the dark.
Featured art by Maddy Jacobs
Poem originally published in Lemonspouting
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