Are You Up? — a poem

Written February 2023, Fakarava, French Polynesia

This is what it feels like to be awake when the world is asleep—thoughts unraveling in strange, quiet ways. Fragments of longing, curiosity, and sorrow drift together, forming something between a dream and a confession. Some of it makes sense, some of it doesn’t, but it all belongs to the same restless night.

Are you up?

I can’t sleep, and I was thinking
about how I’d like to lay
in a bathtub full of jellyfish
with you, while we eat a bowl
of coco pops,

my heart breaks every time
I see a snail on a rainy morning
who isn’t going to have
enough time to make it
across the street,

what do you think
sorrow smells like?

by the way, if I peeled off
all my skin like an orange,
would you still think
I’m the most beautiful girl
you’ve ever met?

I want to do with you
what the sun does to the clouds
as it sets in the horizon,

tell me, what’s your favorite
shade of blue?

I’m going to call you tomorrow
to tell you that it takes
12 seconds for a falling person
to reach terminal velocity,

do you believe in an afterlife?

I would like to knit my bones
into your bones on friday,

I hope this makes sense to you.