Justin S Wampler

Justin S Wampler Jun 2022

The pancake tree softly slapping in the breeze,
gravy to dip your ground-biscuits in.
A sip of ginge,
locking eyes with Bella.

The taste of three or four Stellas,
blue twine escaping our lips
as we smoke in between our
bouts of rapid acceleration.

She can't get the music playing
with my mouth on her earlobe.
The stolen speaker saves us.

Naked on the deck,
enjoying the wooden structure
before she burns it down.

She's puzzled, puzzling.
Dwight's **** is
somewhere in the
jumbled mix.

Locking eyes again,
with Bella.
I laugh, and laugh
and laugh.

I love to laugh.
I love to say "No."
when she asks
if she's allowed
to come.

So close too,
maybe this time
I'll say
"Yes."

Maybe not.

Justin S Wampler Jun 2022

Magnets

Wrapped all around me.
Locked tight behind my back.

I could stay here for awhile.
She doesn't seem to mind.

Drawn together,
polarized lips.

It's something else.
It doesn't conform
to sensibilities,
to expression.

It's ethereal,
it's a misted forest path
winding through
a familiar vale.
A hidden walkway
you never noticed,
even though
you've been
down this
trail before.

It's something that
words can't convey,
but you know it
when you feel it
and you're powerless
to ignore it.

Drawn together,
tangled up,
wound about,
bound,
knotted.

Drawn together,
fated.

Justin S Wampler Jun 2022

Tidal

She sees the moon
while we toss the bags,
while we sit and chat.

She sees the moon
with her head tilted up
to take a swig of beer.

She sees the moon
while I stutter
in the sunlight.

She sees the moon,
and I'm driving
just a little too fast.

She sees the moon
from the open door
of my grandfather's garage.

She sees the moon,
and the moon
sees her.

I only see the moon
glimmering,
reflected in her eyes.

I wonder if she
sees the moon too,
reflected in mine.

Justin S Wampler Jun 2022

Half taught

Dad ain't taught me much,
but one lesson stuck with me
after all these years.

He taught me how to disappear.

But now I'm alone
because he never told me
the rest of the story.

I never learned how to return.

I guess I'll keep waiting
for him to finish
teaching me.

I'm good at waiting.

Justin S Wampler Jun 2022

Newly familiar.

Though
it's been only a memory
for quite some time,
this feeling,
this exciting state of mind.
It's a welcome sensation,
a return to form
of which used to be
some kind of norm.

Don't **** it up,
I find myself thinking.

Am I texting too much?
Am I being annoying?
I showed her my words,
my little rants and raves.

Even this will be seen,
but I guess that's okay.

Time will tell,
and I'm telling time
to pick it up a bit.
Not that I want to
rush into anything,
I just...

...I just like her.

Justin S Wampler Jun 2022

Speak

Sometimes those words left unsaid
go on chasing their tails in my head
until I finally get to spout them out
to anyone who happens to be around.

They'll look at me with a questioning eye,
so exquisitely curious as to precisely why
I felt that they were the one with whom I'd share
the fact I **** my pants and ruined my underwear.

"I was going mad!" I'll say with a glare.
"I had to tell someone, I suppose...
You just so happened to be there,
and so that's just the way it goes."

Justin S Wampler Jun 2022

Smashing Puddles

See what's there to be seen,
green,
lovely greens.

Looking into your twin emeralds
as they shimmer
so brilliantly.

Up here on top.
Come sit with me.

A tattoo of a wrench?
Maybe a door, or a tower?
I'd consider it,
just maybe.

Yet what if those interests leave me?

What if I got a tattoo of a heart,
one that used to belong to me?
Would I be forever condemned
to a bittersweet fate of longing?

Forget all of that,
you look so **** pretty.
The first one tasted like I want another,
so come over here again
and just kiss me.