there are
things that
spew and spill
and drip
from mouths
that I lap up
and swallow
and let grow
in my heart
until there
are twigs
and petals
sprouting from
my nostrils.

youve
left
me.  

I may be young and
vulnerable, naive and
possibly youth drunk,
but I have never
witnessed a love that
has lasted.  

“I want to fall in love,” Her voice drifted from the window sill and pinned itself, smokey and quiet, to my clothing. I rubbed my fingers over the fabric of my night shirt. She was hanging out in the night air again, kissing stars and dreaming up kingdoms. Her hair twirled itself in knots and tangles down her back. The wind was keeping it awake. “Well. No. In fact, darling, I want to step into love.” She dipped her smallest finger into a tub of peanut butter. She always ate peanut butter before bed. “Or waltz into love. Wouldn’t that be lovely? To just dance into it. To float about the room, in pact and in unison. A harmony of music and closeness.” She flashed a candy coated smile at me and I melted under the moonlight. 

..

How could I possibly catch you
running barefoot through clovers
toward the  lakes dock.

Your toes curled at first touch of the water,
and I was still on the front porch,
caught somewhere between earth
and
you. 

(1)  the tide surmounted the moon that night.

His laugh was liquid classical melodies
(Maybe Chopin or Wagner, did you say he was your favorite?) 
He smiled at me from across the dimly lit room
and coiled himself against the quilts.
As usual, in his hands existed a paintbrush.
Fingernails spotted orange and green,
he painted masterpieces on my skin.
When he slept, I found myself in
the shadow on the wall, in lovers
leftover scents. I noticed, in the moonlight
how deep the pit of his collarbone appeared.

I wished I could live in it.  

Lilacs are growing
where my heart was once beating

the veins are now vines
and the cells are now buds.

I fall asleep in petals.
It is Summer. 

And I imagine
when I find you
I will feel the weight of the sky
and the moon and its neighbors; the stars,
lift from my shoulders because
you carry them inside of you
Dancing like droplets of water
fallen from leaves edges
(you never let me leap over)

You read prose with ease,
easy morning breakfast’s in pools
of blankets and drippings of us.
Sweet curiosities on my tongue tip,
touch against yours in silent
conversations about future
kids in silk sheet forts.

I extend my open fingers,
and suddenly my heart is swollen
shut because I have woken up.

..

Last night I waited for you,
as you ran in the opposite direction,
stringing your fears along like a
child’s red wagon on the gravel.
My head was as heavy
as the stars pulled by gravity.
 
My heart has been broken
and unused (a new glass dropped)
I expect too much
and recieve too little,
hold my hand out for grasp
and get passed by.
(again and again)

Yesterday, I fingered your name into my skin,
as you did the weekend,
when fingertips slipped past
lace and sighs escaped to the rafters
and my mouth dropped open
grateful for the cause.

And maybe I need you
(but dont, I just need someone)
to replace the empty spot in the sky.
A new star discovered,
a new phase of the moon looked after.

 

I picture the smile on my face when we lived in Florida and the waters ran through our back yard. I pressed my lips to boys and girls, love unhindered and unchecked and allowed. I don’t know why I bother tracing the lines in your palm when these will only eventually become missed memories placed at the front of my head. You’ve been cheated and lied to and pushed into dark corners that no one could reach. I don’t know why I love the way I do when were strangers. Maybe because I love people and also despise them. I must love, to write. I must hate, to write.  Or my fingers stand still and my mind latches on to the cigarette stained kiss you left with me when it rained. I don’t know what any of this means but when I wake up in the morning and the room is filled of rue and anxiety, I reach for something (Im not sure what) and only find the lamp rattling at my grasping fingers expense. 

Honey dipped kiss,
flower petal soft lips.
I traced wishes into the
knots of your spine.
Your tongue spelled out
l-u-s-t or maybe it was
m-u-s-t but it tasted sweet.

I was born mid-Spring,
mid-dreamed and spoiled.
You were adopted from ideas
of love forever lasting but didn’t.
Regretful parents and heated mouths.

I feel my skin open up around you,
allowing the air to swell and my 
body to form against yours.
But I cant help but wonder
what all this will amount to.

Maybe just another daydream
(with my head poked out the window) 

.

I’ve not been branded.
I am alone.

I have not  allowed a pair of lips
leave its tattoos on my flesh;
neither its shadowy bruise
left behind and never the
thumbprint of mouths chapped. 

Don’t love me,
i’m bad news. 

Darling, where have you disappeared to?
In this bed I realized that in the space between
today and tomorrow, my collarbones and my
breasts (that you eagerly explored) a slight
section of sadness exists because we were
over before we ever began.

I grasped at you, swallowing love
and breathing it back into your skin. 
And now I stand at your doorway,
drenched in confusion and ignorance.
I waited for the movie to begin
and you were already watching
the end credits
without
me.