speak slowly
as cherry juice stains your chapped lips
in the haze
where hours vanish
wake late
to eat toast with no plate
in the same clothes as before
the days are a blur
laugh lazily
with your head tipped back
and unbrushed teeth
the breeze laps at our t-shirts
stare constantly
because the sky won't be as beautiful later
because everything is in bloom
and your love might change
Jun 11, 2017
Jun 11, 2017 at 10:56 PM UTC
is it too much to ask
to lay next to you
tracing your spine
with the scent in the air
of sleep and laziness
of softness felt and seen
in silence enough
to hear a pin drop
and match breaths exhaled
a body, two
intertwined and separated
go slow, and without speech.
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 12:02 PM UTC
heart open far
honeyed love seeps from me
for the things i see,
his hair dark and swept away
and his collarbones' shadow
and his skin tone: olive
he sees but is blind
to the things i find most beautiful about myself
like the curls that dangle in front of my forehead
and the freckles splattered across my cheeks
his gaze only falls short
but maybe i love him the same
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 8:20 PM UTC
tell me
what it is that
keeps you awake at nights
and distracts you
as daylight intends to
keep your attention focused.
do you care about what
makes my mind move?
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 11:23 AM UTC
the prevalent literary subject
the inevitable centerpiece
the time worn muse
it is heartache, she sings
drenched in moonlight
resting alone, she is seen
she is sought after
her hands are delicate,
her body weak
heartache is growing older
sterile to the world
but we still search for her
she sings in us
sweet bleeding
for artists around
take pieces of her and
exhibit them in their own way
heartache has grown grey
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 10:39 PM UTC
i hope you won't see
the jealousy-fire
that is aflame behind my eyes
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 10:19 PM UTC
my mother
is always visible
speaking what she thinks is right
mostly I listen
she does not look like me
she is more talkative
she is always unambiguous
but we are alike
we have the same habits
we share books, clothes
and affinity for the same television characters
my art reflects my mother's art
and sometimes her, herself
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 11:51 AM UTC
drowning in the ocean
that surrounds the black sphere of his pupil
his skin is cream fabricated
I trace his freckles gently with a fingertip
when he doesn't mind
as velvet compliments denim
we are together, flowing
he smells like sugary breakfast cereal
and salt water wind
he reminds me of sprawling dutch tulip fields
clean, unseeingly delicate
his lips taste like raspberries ripened by sunlight
we watch the moon, intrigued
I sift rocky sand through my fingers
and watch you in the waves
loving with eyes open to flaws
and heart beats matched
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 10:42 PM UTC
The innocence of the moon
outweighs the crooked way
the stars hate the light of day.
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
i think you're unaware
about how much
i'd like to run my hands
through your flaxen hair,
pretty boy
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 10:41 PM UTC