My Cosmic Mural

Two Souls Bound

Her cosmos is understood.

He evokes stars around her 

crown like Saturn’s reign.

All he knows is to honor her 

vastness, 

giving space for her 

power to sustain.

He allows her to pull him close;

she is gravity, as she leans on the

girth of his frame.

They are tethered by one sacred 

rule, to complement equally—

two souls bound in the universe’s

name.

—JG  ©2026

Rooted Over Stars

She touched me, not with her 

hands,

but with an open mind to truly 

let me in.

She anchored me in a consistent

truth,

holding me in a stillness that 

leaves me scared of the end.

My cosmic lover—she is no mere

whisper,

but an open declaration for all 

to hear, breathing us into 

existence.

Rooting for us over the stars,

for our whole bodies to meld,

awakening an ancient 

reminiscence.

—JG  ©2026

Gravitational Pull

Where have you gone? 

I mean, how have you been?

Because, of course, you could

never leave my thoughts.

I keep returning to the orbit

where we used to meet, 

where we’d share insights, 

but the absence leaves me blind. 

My words are blurred; 

I can’t seem to focus them,

for they don’t spell much without 

your clarity.

I try my best to leave and vow to 

never return, 

yet a faint grasp tugs at me to be

patient. 

And so, I will keep existing, here, 

if you need me…

—JG   ©2026

Take My Hand

"Every minute that ticks by

without you at my side 

is a reason to tell the clock that 

it’s time is up— 

take my hand."
 

—JG  @2026

Oxygen

High above all else,

we whisper confessions,

palming our giggles so they 

won’t get out.

For she makes up for every 

good breath ever withheld

from me, pressing my chest

gently with lips to my mouth.

—JG  ©2026

Grand Rising

Every morning is a grand rising,

ascending in the midst of your vast

mind,

you priming mine to paint it 

with your lightness.

Where chaotic strokes of weight 

used to be, you wash the canvas clean

in regal gold, and reinvent the sharp

edges into velvet lilac.

I commend your artistic eye,

for brushing with patience,

and having a keen attention for

detail.

For it is hailed how you distill me, 

scrubbing my thoughts, and

massaging my muddled temple,

leaving me a simple way to exhale.

Now hold the palette steady while 

we blend this quiet space into a 

living gallery...

Anesthesia

My Anesthesia,

you keep me under your power

the way you put me to bed.

The way you tuck me in tight

is a wonderful touch, feeling

the midnight in your flora duvet.

I drift in the quiet, a willing surrender,

where shadows dissolve into soft,

heavy lace.

Mm..time goes tender and distant

from there, ahh in your cohesive

embrace.

—JG   ©2026

The Currency of Being Found

Don’t look now,

just be you and his eyes

will find your artifacts.

You have been digging to

locate what makes you a 

treasure when you shouldn’t 

have to ask.

Don’t ever question what 

makes you a good coin

amongst many— 

a penny for your thoughts

Toss it in water and let it

sink in; you my dear are 

what it means to be brought.

—To the forefront of any 

sensible man’s mind

—JG  ©2026

The Onset High

My mind has been wandering,

wading through every thought,

dismissing those that aren’t of

you.

For they are just distant hums,

blurs of noise I rummage through.

Every path my attention takes

just loops back to what you bring,

leaving me unable to pillar time,

tasks, and routine things.

You are my drug,

my dopamine—

keeping me cognizant of the high

I need,

spotlighting the onset of my anxiety.

—JG  ©2026

Cupid’s Bow

I’m shooting from the heart,

Cupid’s hanging off my shoulder,

reloading his bow, aimed directly

at you.

For this love isn’t superficial—

it cuts deep, drawing your blood,

preparing a stretched canvas

where you’re the muse.

Let every crimson drop bleed out,

brush-stroking your exact likeness,

leaving all the beautiful blemishes

intact.

You’re the living masterpiece,

dying to exist in my world,

thriving under of my chaotic impact.

—JG  ©2026