i'll make mixtapes we can lay down rubber in parking lots call out our joy and anger which are almost the same thing anyway i will cry at night but you will lick the salt like a wild deer pepper me with small bruises drive in our underwear just to feel skin sticking to something make contact with your hair as it billows in and out of the car in and out of sight make contact with the only part of your body that is not warm stop only in small towns that keep their stories close in those towns press silky moonlight to the warm parts of your body like poems like slits of light to let the light in through smoke and eat hanging out of the windows pretend we are leaving crumbs to find our way home with but never come back anyways anyways

When I am old,
And sadly steal apart,
Into the dark and cold,
Friend of my heart!
Remember, if you can,
Not him who lingers, but that other man,
Who loved and sang, and had a beating heart, --
When I am old!

When I am old,
And all Love's ancient fire
Be tremulous and cold:
My soul's desire!
Remember, if you may,
Nothing of you and me but yesterday,
When heart on heart we bid the years conspire
To make us old.

When I am old,
And every star above
Be pitiless and cold:
My life's one love!
Forbid me not to go:
Remember nought of us but long ago,
And not at last, how love and pity strove
When I grew old!

I wish that I could write you something that would say
I've never felt this way about anyone else

That I could see you and me clasping each others hands
and making plans for the long run

Oh dear boy
wont you be my man
wont you be my man
wont you be?

And so when I ask you to be mine
I mean for all time, I do, do you?

That I want to wake every morning entwined
with your legs and arms and lips, I wouldn't mind

Oh dear boy
wont you be my man
wont you be my man
wont you be?

Can we pretend we're in ireland
on the 29th of february

So that I could go down on one knee
and ask you my sweet boy to marry me

Please dear boy
wont you be my man
wont you be my man
wont you be?

Wont you please
marry me...

A new perspective.

                                    In memories
                                    In the now
                                    They are old
                                    They are new
                                    They are wrought.

A budding relationship,  
                                               with it's frailties.
A friendship falling,
                                        lies pervading through.

A mother and her grown daughter,
                                                       ­             both feeling trapped.

Being nervous and excited.
Being irrational and righteous.
Being torn and depleted.

I have grown from this.
I have been burned and healed.
I have cried as have you.

I let your eager hands meet flesh.
I let your desertion make me strong.

                                                But

I will not let you go from this betrayal,
I will not let you explain these discretions away.

Sticks & stones
They pierce my flesh
But your words,
They break my being
Suppose if you opened your eyes
Maybe then I could begin healing
For those cutting sounds
Formed by lip and tongue
I will forever bare
Perhaps if you could feel their blow
Maybe then you would begin to care
To know of Love

I feel numb, but only in my arm;
That's where the work goes.
It creeps along stealing away
all I should be feeling.
Besides it's existence,
For existence doesn't fade away
Till there are none that remember
And so
It reminds me of forgetting you
Becoming numb to your receding touch
Until it's memory is but a mere and faint brush
A pressure forgotten for which I now wish for so much.