Heartbeat Lessons

Take me beneath your wings
and fly me to Pluto,
disregarding the time of lightyears
and the fact that decades separate us.

You don't believe in God,
and that's alright,
because you don't have to.

I don't believe in faith,
but that's okay,
because you can teach me.

The world has mocked us from the start,
disbelieving that we could ever
hold our talents to a value
so much higher than
our social statuses.

Had they taken a moment to consider
that we are more than
two people who test the boundaries,
they might have understood
that they make things harder
by trying to force us to believe
in subjects we've long since given up on.

Just as I could never hope
to be labelled "flawlessly perfect,"
you probably never expected
to have one such as myself
bow down at your feet.

And yet, here I am,
kneeling amidst the muck of half-hearted compliments
and the grime of emotionless words
in attempt to pay my respects
to one as perfectly flawed
as you.

Pick me off my knees with a phrase
and dust the garbage from my palms
with a smile of pleasant pretendings.

We may not know each other well,
but I
know
that your words
have a way of dropping me to the concrete
with their pedicured bluntness
and manicured magnificence.

So,
I beg you,
take me under your feathers
and float me to Jupiter.

Transport me out of the world that we share
and into a reality that I've never seen.

With one small whisper
of
dreamy images,
you have the ability
to walk me across clouds
or
throw me to the stars.

...
I'm listening closely
to your heart's softest beatings
and the echoes of your fingers
stroking the keys
...

what does your pulse have to teach me today?