no-tice
/ˈnōtis/
verb
1. to become aware of

start with a list of things that happen so often and are so unfathomably beautiful that you sometimes forget to notice them:
            birds flying
            fog
                   people holding the door for you at the grocery store
            eating
            laughter
                   the longer you look at stars, the more you can see
            sunrises
            sunsets
                    animals not getting run over
            finding seashells
            frayed shoelaces
                    leaves falling
            strangers’ smiles
            the wind
                     the sound of rain on your grandmother’s tin roof

i remember holding your hand
            so tightly
            i thought it
            would break
the day i got my first tattoo; i swore to god it was the most pain i
had ever felt in my life
but afterwards, it wasn't bad, and i had something to show for it
and your bruised fingers made me laugh
i can’t remember if i thanked you for that, but
you had a pretty strong grip yourself
so we’re even

and you (i know it sounds silly
i know you’re sad sometimes but
              i am so proud of you
              i am so proud of you)
i know you can fly, you can do more than that
i’ve seen it
              i am so proud of you
              i am so proud of you

i live for the
long nights we spend together
all of us
alive
and glowing
and invincible
in love with each other

he sings to me

about warmth, and holy water,

and wood burning, and the illumination

of existing, and they play something that reminds

me of being the captain of a great ship or the leader of a band of hopeful
refugees, heading toward unimaginable adventure and so close to the sun my face gets
burned just from smiling

i feel that a lot when i hear him
i don’t think i ever thanked you for that, either
so thank you

and you
when you show me these stories
the words and effigies you have to
          have to share with the world
my chest collapses
          and expands like tectonic plates
          shifting
          changing
the outline of earth and i feel like
          a prophet
here to spread good news to the people,
                                              the great prince has come!
                                              and she will be brighter and stronger than we ever thought
                                              and we will remember her

i never felt like a saint
until you showed me what a righteous thing
anger could be

did i ever thank you for that

and you (me now)
i (you/we)
never thought i could love you. truly Love you.
until i (you/me/we)
            did

no-tice
/ˈnōtis/
verb
1. to become aware of

to become aware of the feeling of air on your cheeks
            (the atmosphere wrapping you in its arms)
of the tingling of your fingertips
            (creating)
and of the enormity of your own purpose
            (worth)
so deeply imprinting the world by simply
breathing, resting your feet on the ground below you, you and i have
laid down so much more than our feet

i have so much left to give

this was going to be an easily planned, everything-mapped-out-just-so speech

in the corner of my sketchbook

jotted down in-purple-ink for-a-day-or-two,

what makes you happy? what inspires you?

there are too many things
           to say
                       to feel
                                   to thank
                                               to notice
 

i think maybe it’s impossible to s t r i n g together
every one of the moments
           blessings
           smiles
           laughs
           birds
           stars
           leaves
           hymns
           dreams
           seashells
           sunsets
           sunrises
that make up my (your/our) life, that make me (you/us) proud, that i can use to paint the picture
(in a messy ruined t-shirt
messy tired bun
messy classroom table
messy nebulous life)
that you (i/we) can look at, pick apart, absorb, notice, and say
                                                                               thank you,
                                                                                    i want to live

if i’m shaking it’s only because i’m so happy
i used to think it was a sad thing, a hard thing to feel stars dying inside you
now i know how beautiful it is to be made of their dust