I looked in your eyes and they were moonlight,
piercing the darkness, unlike sunshine, unlike
the burning you feel when you get too close to something
fake. I looked into your moonlight eyes and I saw pools
of blue cascading like a waterfall over crystal, distorted shimmer.
It wasn't even like looking at eyes, it was just looking into something
I wanted to steal and lock away, in a corner of my closet
where no light could scratch.

Its hard sometimes
to feel the lust.
To feel the genuine gaze of longing
from eyes that see passed flesh ripping pulls
and grasping fingers. Your nails
leave trails along thighs that disappear
into the hairs. Like rivers on a map
where streams are crossing
violently and parallel.

I want to break the tiny bones
in my fingers and crunch my hands
into crumples of blood and skin.
I want to break all of my possessions,
I want to shatter glass and crunch it
into tiny shards with my palms.
I want to cause a collision,
to run my car into another,
to watch matter bend and implode.
I want to hear the echo of inconvenience,
to discomfort and dishearten.
I want to set the world on fire
and to reciprocate the feeling of contempt
I hold with a tight grip.

In a winter reflection, through a cage of ice,
I watch a shadow of myself love you.
From a sunken place, I’m stuck,
Endlessly pacing within my head,
I’m stuck, a lonely, hungry tiger.
The coldness fills me slowly
as I watch you from my prison.
The bars to my cage pretend to bend,
but it is only a trick of the sun.
I refuse to leave the cage
even though I have the key,
for safety
for sanity
for selfishness
I swallow the key often.
The cage will melt eventually
so I will wait until then,
It is hard to hate for so long
in conditions like this
where every day the water freezes
and unfreezes and freezes.
It is hard to hate when her hands melt the ice.
Love freezes the pain and drips away everything else
Into the gutter, but the sun always falls, still.

Why does the moon hum a warm tint
in the darkest, coldest, empty night?

The frosty walk home is lonelier with its glow.
I am devoured by the cold and the lack of sound.

My exhale, like a ghost, tries to find a way home also.

You swore you felt the Earth quake
But I knew otherwise
The force was from the tectonic plates
Shifting within me, my marrow molding
over itself, pressuring the collision of us,
the snake pit that lived in the shadows
of my bones, under my skin, slithered
like a river running rapid, unstoppable.
I watched the drink you cradled like treasure
rise, attaching to your lips by osmosis,
you sipped and I watched the heartbeat
of your gulps, first slow then recklessly quick,
the waterfall from which you took your drink
rushed down, disappearing into the mystery
within you. I wanted more than anything
to be that drink, to wet your lips, to be
the beat that you were so thirsty for.
Somewhere else in the bar, a glass slipped
off its tray, shattered, and people screamed
and they laughed too, soaked whiskey jeans
trudged off to the bathroom looking for paper towels.
You didn’t flinch at the sound of the shatter,
you were off, staring into the void of it all,
and I stared off at the geometry of your jawline,
sharp as rain fall, your eyes glistened with the gloss
of happy, your lips parted to say something
but you turned to me and instead just gazed.
I felt love like the color red, burn in my stomach like a coal.