i am so broke,
i can't even afford to pay attention...*

We know, America.
We are too.

Stop making sense,
it isn't helping.

My dear, my darling sweet
I’m sorry I let you down; Love is a most difficult feat
Pray, listen to the words my heart sings
A song inspired by your beautiful image, ever lingering
Always you are in my spirit, and on my mind
Every waking minute, my thoughts search out to find
The only one who’s beauty is unmatched
My sweet Firefly, you will always have my attention attached
To your heart and soul
Such beauty unfathomable
Love whisper softly that I’m forgiven
I will fall, but I’ll do my best, to never let you down again
Your every word; your precious voice
Lifts me up, makes me strong, I cannot but help—I’ve lost the choice
Look at me sweet, would you show me your eyes?
I hope you don’t mind, I can see into your soul, you have no disguise
But I’ll protect you, and be your guard
Melt with me love, letting go of you would be much to hard
I want your beauty always near
You ease my pain, you calm my fear
I know I’ll let you down; I know I’ve already done so
But Firefly, oh precious one, please don’t go…
I’ll sing you my song I’ll sing you my best
I’ll tell you any truth at your gentle request
I want you to see your beauty and strength
Can I be your mirror? Take a good look at length
Can you see in my eyes? You make my insides melt
You’re generous love’s unending; something I’ve never felt
Oh what a glorious heart, oh that radiant stone
After only hours with you, I didn’t want to be alone
Would you give a fool a gift?
Gently, softly gaily lift
I wish my dear to see your smile
A moment is long enough…or you could wear it for a while
Forgive my tragic, broken words
I’m sorry for everything you’ve ever heard
I cannot speak, my words are a curse
I wish you could hear my soul…if only for a verse

I don’t need your bare skin
The deep alleys lying within
When I sink my nose in your hair
All day you linger there.

I can do without your kiss
Warm crevices I don’t miss
When graze my lips on your ear
All day you linger there.

I don’t want you pierced and dug
Nor crave you tight in hug
Catching you once in stare
All day you linger there.

I don’t thirst your panting moan
Grab you as if you I own
One touch of your loving care
All day you linger there.

The first girl I ever kissed
was in a bathroom at a dance.
I remember my heart pounding because I was finally telling her,
finally saying something to her about how I might feel,
which was this jumble of confusion and uncertainty and
just wanting to try.
I had been thinking about her for awhile,
because to me, she was the only one who could settle this.
I remember her smirk, and how she kissed me hard,
and my head spun and the world fell away
and it was an ecstasy I hadn’t known before.
She slipped her knee between my legs
and I knew what desire was.
Someone came in and she quickly turned around,
and we pretended like I was helping her with her dress.
I left that night in a whirl of guilt and bliss and questions.
That was my first kiss that was beyond stupid teen pecks.

The first boy I kissed,
(and again, here I mean kissed more than half a second)
he was tall and handsome and wore black jackets.
We got caught kissing in school once.
He said he loved me. I think he believed it.
(But his promises started to feel more like threats.)
I remember being alone with him in a room,
and as we were kissing,
my mind wandered back a year.
I remember I thought of the girl kissing me,
and my mind said,
“wasn’t that better?”
I could hardly stand to kiss him after that.

The second girl I ever kissed,
I knew.
It was a love I hadn’t known before. It made the others seem faint in comparison.
We had so little opportunity to be alone,
but I was addicted to kissing her when she let me.
(She eventually broke my heart.)

By the third (and fourth and fifth) girl,
It was all I knew.

There was never another boy.

He looks like a kabuki dragon
acid trip, only on his left half.
After ordering some coffee,
this man, of intimidating height
continues his conversation with the blonde.

The green ink covers his face,
and slowly meanders to the left of his body.
Hairless, the glasses and earring
make his exterior look like a pearl.
As he talks with his hands,
the green moves like leaves in a jungle
that swallowed the gem.

In a single swipe,
his paws could crush mountains.
Both hands envelope the coffee cup
as if it were a tiny kitten he is leaning in to kiss.
Despite his brutish appearance,
I can tell he is a gentle creature.

His deep voice is soothing,
as each sentence hums  
though it causes the coffee shop to shake.
I wonder if gods sound like that
or if all the smoke this dragon man exhales
has deepened his chords.

I’m nervous this living mythical figure
will catch me staring,
though I’m sure it wouldn’t be the second time
he’s had to ignore it.
I’m envious, knowing his journeys
and personality are etched into his skin
for the world to see.
But only he knows the translations.

So bold,
so confidant to wear not just love
but pain and life-lessons on his skin.
Perhaps I’m drawn or inked to him
because I could never be that open,
and honest without saying a single word to anyone.

Mercury is retrograde,
reducing me to idioms:
life is the Cobra Kai dojo,
and we are the Pilates kids.

So *******, messenger boy.
i can still communicate,

if i need to.

we endlessly search
for something to give us meaning
in every newly turned page
in every unexplored street corner
we look
but to no avail
we do not desire gold
nor love
but to leave a mark on the world
that is not a scar

never fall in love with a student.
especially the one that teaches herself
Portuguese, who's loved learning
chemistry since the age of thirteen.
but somewhere it made a reaction and
changed what it means, for she to be in
love.

atoms are mostly empty
space, so she really does think
that you have quite an
empty mind. she thinks you'd
take that the wrong way. she
never wants to hurt you, but
once you've made her mad,
she'll angrily yell it towards you
any day.

matter can not be
created or destroyed.
so the bones that support
your flesh, that she loves,
are made of the rust on
her grandmama's car, which hasn't
been driven since her love died.
they are made up of the dust
that formed the planets and the
Milky Way.

history has taught her what
happens when one person tries to
hold the universe in their hand.
she really is against war, but
she wants to, she's going to,
kiss and hold your hands
anyway.

but then she'll remember that
atoms are mostly empty space,
so she will never actually touch you
and you will never actually touch her.
you'll tell her that's sad to say.
to her it means no amount of folds put in
a map will make you two closer. there will
always be a distance. she will become
the guard of that space, and your solitude.
you are complete to her. she is a counterbalance.
she will learn to love the distance and curse it,
just like she hates school, but loves learning.

never fall in love with a student
who loves to learn you.
never fall in love with a student
(me).