soymilk - Hello Poetry

If a man is only as good as his word, then I want to marry a man with a vocabulary like yours. The way you say dicey and delectable and octogenarian in the same sentence— that really turns me on. The way you describe the oranges in your backyard using anarchistic and intimate in the same breath. I would follow the legato and staccato of your tongue wrapping around your diction until listening become more like dreaming and dreaming became more like kissing you. I want to jump off the cliff of your voice into the suicide of your stream of consciousness. I want to visit the place in your heart where the wrong words die. I want to map it out with a dictionary and points of brilliant light until it looks more like a star chart than a strategy for communication. I want to see where your words are born. I want to find a pattern in the astrology. I want to memorize the scripts of your seductions. I want to live in the long-winded epics of your disappointments, in the haiku of your epiphanies. I want to know all the names you’ve given your desires. I want to find my name among them, ‘cause there is nothing more wrecking **** than the right word. I want to thank whoever told you there was no such thing as a synonym. I want to throw a party for the heartbreak that turned you into a poet. And if it is true that a man is only as good as his word then, sweet jesus, let me be there the first time you are speechless, and all your explosive wisdom becomes a burning ball of sun in your throat, and all you can bring yourself to utter is, oh god, oh god.

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Mar 18, 2015

Mar 18, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC

Life

If a man is only as good as his word, then I want to marry a man with a vocabulary like yours. The way you say dicey and delectable and octogenarian in the same sentence— that really turns me on. The way you describe the oranges in your backyard using anarchistic and intimate in the same breath. I would follow the legato and staccato of your tongue wrapping around your diction until listening become more like dreaming and dreaming became more like kissing you. I want to jump off the cliff of your voice into the suicide of your stream of consciousness. I want to visit the place in your heart where the wrong words die. I want to map it out with a dictionary and points of brilliant light until it looks more like a star chart than a strategy for communication. I want to see where your words are born. I want to find a pattern in the astrology. I want to memorize the scripts of your seductions. I want to live in the long-winded epics of your disappointments, in the haiku of your epiphanies. I want to know all the names you’ve given your desires. I want to find my name among them, ‘cause there is nothing more wrecking **** than the right word. I want to thank whoever told you there was no such thing as a synonym. I want to throw a party for the heartbreak that turned you into a poet. And if it is true that a man is only as good as his word then, sweet jesus, let me be there the first time you are speechless, and all your explosive wisdom becomes a burning ball of sun in your throat, and all you can bring yourself to utter is, oh god, oh god.

34

The first is when someone is reckless with your heart and it breaks and it shatters in ways you never thought it could The second one is when you break someone's heart because you'll never know pain like the type that has you look into their eyes but they look away. And the worst kind of heartbreak is the kind that comes along when you have to watch the person you love with someone else.

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Mar 14, 2015

Mar 14, 2015 at 4:24 AM UTC

The three kinds of heartbreak

The first is when someone is reckless with your heart and it breaks and it shatters in ways you never thought it could The second one is when you break someone's heart because you'll never know pain like the type that has you look into their eyes but they look away. And the worst kind of heartbreak is the kind that comes along when you have to watch the person you love with someone else.

19

I guess I know now why you never held my hand tight; why hold on to someone, you know you're just going to let go, right?

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Mar 12, 2015

Mar 12, 2015 at 4:14 AM UTC

Hands

I guess I know now why you never held my hand tight; why hold on to someone, you know you're just going to let go, right?

9