Hazy eyed
satisfied
just out of the
tumultuous
stream of
pleasure,
picking her
things and
stuffing it in her
hand bag quick,
a moment before
stepping in to
the lift quietly,
she turns to him
and slips
a ****** pill
in to his reluctant palm,
with a suggestive
squeeze,
(an after thought
ahead of a
future plot,
he realizes)
he slips it
carelessly
like in
other times
in to his hip pocket
smiling to himself
mulling over her
****** avarice,
fear of failure,
and insatiated desires
she bundled up
all these years
and kept hidden
like the pill
a promise for tomorrow
deeply buried secret
among the knick knacks,
in  her bag.

7pm:** it's one of those nights
8pm: watch tv
9pm: keep distracted
10pm: plan for tomorrow
11pm: go to bed
12pm: wake up and try to read until I fall asleep
1am: remember your charming smile and the way you run your fingers through your hair.
2am: flip angrily through the pages that I skim over because for some reason I strongly believe that a book on love will help me get over you
3am: think about why you don't and never did love me
4am: count the hours until I have to get up and blame you for keeping me awake.
5am: you used to keep me awake for things like talking about our futures and now I'm left here with half an empty bed wondering why your future doesn't involve me
6am: wake up tired from my 15 minute sleep and wonder how even on the darkest nights the sun still manages to rise
7am: I'm drinking coffee out of a cup that used to touch your lips every morning, like me, and I know you won't be back for either of us

ask your blood
your limbs, your breathing feet
what Poetry is -
a phylogenetic anomaly
in light’s discontinuity

or just…
the strange yearning of hematopoiesis

ask the silence in your lungs
the bursting DNA, reinterpreted
how it allures memory inside your bones
how it treads conventions of sleep
with the weight of a sigh

if you ask me
what Poetry is
I’d say: breath calligraphy
a winged dream of depth
on enchanted retina
the bitter-sweet art of airy harmony

ask your hands
what Poetry is
perhaps they’ll take a moment
to bloom

you held galaxies in your hands.
blades cut on your thigh and you bled stars.
the beating of your heart sounded a lot like the birth of planets.
and you kissed the world goodbye, giving me only the moon to remember you by.

you were the fabric of time and I swear when she left I could feel you ripple.
the tips of your fingers felt as hot as the sun.
the stares were as blinding as a solar eclipse.
and you kissed the world goodbye, giving me only the moon to remember you by.

I still remember the moon.

fingers- i landed my boat here, when i first met you. your fingers twirled together absentmindedly and they still do and i'm still get lost whenever i wander onto the dark beaches.
hands- i discovered these peninsulas when you pulled me along on your adventures after I landed on the beaches and they were so rough yet so wonderful and i honestly want to get lost here more often.
wrists- i found these a bit more on the mainland, still flanked by water and they were so narrow that i was afraid i would fall off into the water and i wonder how those thick colorful bracelets stay on.
cheeks- one day i wanted to go on a hike so i decided to climb up these steep mountains and whenever something beautiful sailed by you these beautiful red begonias popped up and i'm a little upset that i didn't make them pop up but i'm glad they didn't bloom around me because i got to see the natural red hills and i got to love them.

but i made a mistake because i never went south and maybe i would have gotten lost somewhere else more beautiful but if i went south, i wouldn't have found the beautiful pools that some call your eyes and that would've been the real loss.

Gazing down at me
In starry eyed brilliance
The apex of your pleasure
Reached with sweated brow
Clenched teeth and moans
Energy released leaves love's scent
Heady. Hazed. Humming.
My body curls into yours
As worked out lungs catch up
To our finish line