(the science of pseudo-soul mates)
When the average human blinks
it is because,
during gaps in conversation
and excavating the mundane
and breathing each others silences
our brains fuse the moments
surrounding,
as if to prove to our hearts
that we wont miss what was deleted.
It is understanding,
that when people are
engaged in certain
and similar
circumstances they begin to blink in unison,
like a group of pre-teen girls
fluttering in front of their crush,
or hearts beating in sync
with bodies pressed
against each other through boxed up sheets.
That when people are
engaged in certain
circumstances they begin to blink in unison,
as if
all our brains are queued into the same lifeline,
as if
our pseudo-soul mates are somewhere blinking the same as us.
It is understanding,
that when we sit down,
tainted with remnants of social norms
and soap box professions
and people in poems
my lashes flutter faster than my heart beats
even though I think I could stare at you
for days
and miles
and ounces
through fields and in between.
That when we sit down,
and you lightly graze my hair with your hand
and I think of all the words that
can be written about my breath touching your skin,
all the poems
read by pre-teen girls,
as if
our story had an ending which someone would pine over,
as if
our story could have a heartbeat pseudo-scientists would be proud of.
Something like the moon,
and the stars
and the bits of the life up there that
I know nothing of
because I spent my time preoccupied
with you.
Because I spent my time preoccupied
with all of you.
It is understanding,
that when the average human blinks
it is because,
when excavating the mundane
and breathing each others silences
our brains know the truth
would kill us.
Our brains know
the poets in our palms are fierce
and the philosophers in our guts
can lie,
but when our eyes flutter
it is out of the hope that we wont actually miss
a moment.
Author Bio:
Valerie started writing seriously after her father gave her a copy of Fahrenheit 451 – she figured it was as good a time as any to start fighting the patriarchy. She has since been published in Lone Cypress Review, Red Cedar Review, Pif Magazine and Scheherazade, among others. She most recently curated a poetry exhibit highlighting National Poetry Awareness Month at her university. Valerie lives in Monterey, California and enjoys drinking stale coffee, marathon viewing The West Wing, and writing…always writing.
When the average human blinks
it is because,
during gaps in conversation
and excavating the mundane
and breathing each others silences
our brains fuse the moments
surrounding,
as if to prove to our hearts
that we wont miss what was deleted.
It is understanding,
that when people are
engaged in certain
and similar
circumstances they begin to blink in unison,
like a group of pre-teen girls
fluttering in front of their crush,
or hearts beating in sync
with bodies pressed
against each other through boxed up sheets.
That when people are
engaged in certain
circumstances they begin to blink in unison,
as if
all our brains are queued into the same lifeline,
as if
our pseudo-soul mates are somewhere blinking the same as us.
It is understanding,
that when we sit down,
tainted with remnants of social norms
and soap box professions
and people in poems
my lashes flutter faster than my heart beats
even though I think I could stare at you
for days
and miles
and ounces
through fields and in between.
That when we sit down,
and you lightly graze my hair with your hand
and I think of all the words that
can be written about my breath touching your skin,
all the poems
read by pre-teen girls,
as if
our story had an ending which someone would pine over,
as if
our story could have a heartbeat pseudo-scientists would be proud of.
Something like the moon,
and the stars
and the bits of the life up there that
I know nothing of
because I spent my time preoccupied
with you.
Because I spent my time preoccupied
with all of you.
It is understanding,
that when the average human blinks
it is because,
when excavating the mundane
and breathing each others silences
our brains know the truth
would kill us.
Our brains know
the poets in our palms are fierce
and the philosophers in our guts
can lie,
but when our eyes flutter
it is out of the hope that we wont actually miss
a moment.
Author Bio:
Valerie started writing seriously after her father gave her a copy of Fahrenheit 451 – she figured it was as good a time as any to start fighting the patriarchy. She has since been published in Lone Cypress Review, Red Cedar Review, Pif Magazine and Scheherazade, among others. She most recently curated a poetry exhibit highlighting National Poetry Awareness Month at her university. Valerie lives in Monterey, California and enjoys drinking stale coffee, marathon viewing The West Wing, and writing…always writing.
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