when I say don't stop
I'm pleading more to myself
than I am to you

    don't stop giving in
   'til the shape of your back is
    the shape of his palms

   don't stop yielding up
    'til your secrets liquefy
   into his whiskey

   don't stop submitting
   'til you see the skin under
   his chin sleek and flushed

if you want to shut
me up, lock my lower lip
in-between your teeth

I keep wanting you
and aching afterward — yet
I keep
            coming
                           back

sun's hot, water's wet
— and skin was just skin until
I saw it on you

dip your long fingers
in me     — I'm a lake,
                                       deep,
                                                 dark
veiled,
            calm with desire

BLUE BIRD: if you can't
in one hundred and forty
characters, then don't

they say looks can ****
but why does mine want you stripped
warm — and on my bed

you ought to be hanged
for the way you stare — gold-framed
in a museum

I don't understand
how you can be more tempting
draped, than naked — you

you — standing still, strong
like David and Venus — un-
drape me already

skin — your skin — excites
the hell out of me like it's
fine art on the street

confession: I thought
the THREE-BODY PROBLEM was
an old ****** case

glorious rain — we
are a storm within these walls
made of two bodies

you make sense — like a
warm mug of matcha latte
on a rainy day
                      門

this crowded room is
a battlefield where we take
turns stealing glances

sometimes people choke
on something edible or
wild — like his secrets

there is a void in
his shape within me — and there
are these spaces he
left wide open — places that
I have not learned to close yet

if you didn't sleep
last night, did today ever
turned to tomorrow

bridges look best when
you're in the water — best crossed
                             when with a lover

two sticks — you lit one
offered me your cig — wished you
meant         your bed             instead

we had that one old
photo that always reminds
me how I wanted
to have kids with you, and you
did have kids — just not with me

I'm always stealing
glances and end up getting
lost in your eyes, or
is it the ocean — to be
honest, what's the difference

my brain's a chem lab
and the chemist is asleep
— HELP THERE IS A FIRE!

YOU emanate GRACE
that to say — you're beautiful
would be           REDUNDANT

I might as well live
in my very own country
— PROCRASTINATION

they say, LIFE is a
                 PARTY! — maybe it is, but
                                     I'm an introvert

will the only time
I get rest — and peace — is when
I'm but grey ashes

what we see as change
when green summer leaves turn brown
is really just growth

W,

I kept thinking —
it'll be easier
if I get hit by a car

instead of going to work.

Love,
JH

even my own eyes
deny me of my own tears
— what else can't I have

I can't tell him
he's beautiful
— because then
       he'll know
         why
           he's beautiful
             to me

hey kid, listen — don't
leave the womb, don't open your
eyes — they'll make you cry

peal my layers off
eat me up and spit me out
plant me — I'm a seed

dough in the oven
and a lover with their past
— these things won't rise if
you keep opening it up
digging it, calling them out

I was a dreamer
you, a wanderer — you left
                 while I was asleep

I was up, writing
my ink — cold and raven like
                               rain at 2 am

up at 2 am
— chasing after something lost
like I'm losing time

living alone, I
thought the sea was a distant
dream — 'til I cried one

if you're looking for
CONSISTENT, search no more — I'm
                                  consistently tired

they only see the
tiredness in your eyes when they're
mad at you for it

I
touch me
on my palm
like I'm a flower
you mean to open

II
touch me
between my fingers
like I'm a sea
you mean to part

III
touch me
in my arm
like I'm a sheep
you mean to guide

IV
touch me
on my shoulders
like I'm a wall
you mean to hold

V
touch me
on the nape
like I'm cards
you mean to shuffle

VI
touch me
on the side of my face
like I'm braille
you mean to read

VII
touch me
on the lips
like I'm cherries
you mean to pick

VIII
touch me
on my neck
like I'm a glass
you mean to drink

IX
touch me
on my chest
like I'm a drum
you mean to beat

X
touch me
like you mean it

if they find rest in
somebody else, does it mean
           it's you they're tired of

our love can take a
different shape, HISTORY
— the one we shared — won't

his LIPS — pressed to my
      nape — bear witness to    the SHAPE
                                        of my EXISTENCE

they say it's all in
my head — why do I feel it
in my LIMBS and CHEST

W,

I don't think I'll ever trust you with my heart again.

Love,
JH

treacherous are my
own thoughts — for they are daggers
I hold on the blade

the PARABLE of
the ALL-NIGHTER: "is sleep just . . ."

a SOCIAL CONSTRUCT