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Cindy Baldwin Jun 2019
April sank its teeth in 
And wouldn't let go -
Marrow deep -
That bone-break kick
And shaking apart from the inside.
The sharp swell of fire in the blood,
Sweet and hot and alive - 
Sunburn hot and choke-point tight,
Aftershocks skating across raw nerve.
But time inevitably 
Collects its dues from us all,
And this is all I've ever wanted -
Warm, smokey laughter
And blue eyes that have never played fair -
There is no world outside this room,
And we know this dance -
That boom-swell of wicked.
Our blood sings,
And I could die of it -
Your fingers leaving flames where they touch
And choosing this kind of wrecked.
Everything tips sideways
With the kind of force that wakes spirits,
And I follow -
Wanting.
The sky stretches by hours over the earth,
And none of it matters like it should.
The way you draw it out - one stitch at a time -
And I can't catch my breath.
Fireworks and honey - 
And a sweet burn on the tongue
That hangs like a fog and sifts into pieces
With every breath we take -
Coming apart in a series of exhales
That taste like your name - 
And I return,
Chasing the way you speak.
We petition gods & saints -
Any distance between us is too much,
Consuming us like a riptide,
Gripping with fingers that can no longer feel.
That delirious afterburn,
The sun like a brilliant, sweltering heart,
And what good is warmth we cannot feel?
Give me another sip from your smile,
And let's watch our hell catch fire.
Cindy Baldwin Jun 2019
We are flawed, wrecked,
Mere threads away from ripping apart.
Tell me one last time -
But your jaw won't form real words.
We are moving too quickly,
And this moment is more than content alone.
Casting shadows stranger than the rest,
We wake in moonlight.
Your sigh sinks and falls,
Landing softly at our feet
And encompassing us like a galaxy.
You are an explosion without momentum,
And bless you - you're like trying to touch fire -
I feel ordained by my attempt.
Something cracks and something rises,
The ghosts return and become
Living, breathing bodies again,
Breath hitching like earthquakes and thunder.
It's too loud, it's too much,
Like being underwater for too long -
We're choking on air.
Honey molasses and blooming flowers -
It's in our blood and we're immortal,
Voices like fairy bells.
We are gods and men,
***** angels -
Holy in the wickedest possible way.
Do you believe in fate?
The turn of your eyes speaks the truth -
Cracks it wide open,
And it looks like this.
It's the wrong question, but it feels right -
Talk me down from my high;
It doesn't taste as good as the rest.
Maybe we're forgiven - 
Who knows what will happen?
Isn't this enough?
We don't speak - let go, let go -
Let go of holding on too tightly,
And this hurts so bad,
It feels remarkably good.
We're going down.
Come, this way -
Tonight is for us -
It's our god ****** hour of need.
Again and again- and for the last time now,
We just are.
Cindy Baldwin Jun 2019
The last of the sun's light
Streaks the sky like ultraviolet,
And everything burns away in an instant -
The smooth planes of your back
Lit up like a fire in the wind -
Faint points of pressure.
We are ghosts,
Clinging to a past we can't leave behind,
And the walls are closing in.
The night slides in,
Drawing the moon down over the mountains
And settling with the bite of acid,
Taking a deeper turn.
A moment of stillness,
And a shiver crawls up a spine
And over the edge of the breath we give up,
And we want -
Pressed under the weight 
Of words and promises;
Miles of beautiful words pressed into our skin.
We are breathless, 
And part of a world that's ours -
Utopia. Silence. 
The burn, the warm, the numb -
Real and tangible and pulsing.
Our words hang in the air between us,
Seeping into each other like relevant dreams.
Our fates sealed and brought forth,
We claim each other idols.
The solemnity that slows our blood
Explodes in the night sky,
And it's a beautiful sound -
Shadow's swift departure - cut, release.
Did it burn like this before?
Gripping to anchor,
We trace moonlight in darkness.
It's hard, and it's real, 
And it's a weight we know in every particular;
A compass spinning in every direction,
A wire sparking in the blood.
It's a clear night- no clouds -
And we can see the stars.

— The End —