Lick the words
from my lips
let them slide down
your throat
like fruited jewels,
   dark, hard candies
   that melt into cream
a healing liquid  
oozing into my
               ventricles,
pumping milky beats
out through
           your cells
permeating the deep
of my wild
  
My syllables will
   wrap themselves
      around your syntax
frothy hybrids
of buttered silk
                and irony
heart-to-heart
conversations that
flow into the ether,
as heaven's night
endlessly begins

We twirl our tongues
into guttural utterings,
lustful verse
that glides from
slick-fervored ice
to an outpour
                    of lava
We feed each other
dreams
our saliva like honey
dripping with dawn's
tender glow
as we open up
like baby birds,
begging to be nourished
at all costs

Here,
in this lingual forest
Your breath finds a home
on my tastebuds,
my tongue
in your
          cheek
            
In between the tumults
of our
exploding oceans
This
     is how we
  love

I poured a lot of drink in a cup that can only take so much!
I was too drunk to focus on the pouring, it spilt out till it was way past a glass touch!
A glass being a glass too fragile yet speechless,
Allowed me to pour and drown it away!
It never expressed, it just eased my pain
It numbed it and expected nothing in return!
But if drinking is bad and harmful,
Why do I keep pouring?
And how is my cup handling all the pouring!

My dreams, oh my dreams.
They are filled with elements from the world surrounding me
only I could notice
The gently torn spine of my bible
The hole in my deep sea blue overalls
The delicacy used to wind up my singing dolly
The faint, white scars tracing my arms and hands ever so gently
Out of all the dreams within this world
Flying visits me the most during my deep slumbers
The wind gliding like water pushing past my fingertips
The time slowing down
Slower and slower
Until I’m left to float
The peacefulness and serenity engulfing me
Knowledge held in my mind coming to an absolute halt
Allowing me to rest
Allowing me to experience my own
Personal
Beautiful
Haven

I was your slave
to every end of your lust
I'd be punished if I were to misbehave
but this addiction to you was a must
you said it was forever
I was too naive to know that it's never true
I've been addicted to every part of you since November
and way beyond that, and you never had a clue
until that one fateful autumn day
when what you said started it all
and what I said, was no misplay
little did I know what I answered would result in my downfall.

I get up in the morning, sometimes still high from the night before, sometimes sober, sometimes wake and bake. I head into the bathroom, stand there to *** and force myself to look down at the ***** between my legs. Years and years have built up to an acceptance of my genitals from a foundation of hate.

I force myself to look myself in the face in the mirror, run my hands from ear to chin along my jaw, along the hair that represents to others a definitive flaw in my character, to myself, well, represents a certain type of shame. You see, everyone's convinced that women don't or should not grow hair in certain places.

Regardless of my status as a transgender individual, can't you see the stress this lays, the autonomy it takes from other women, too? It's like no one's ever heard of Punjabi peoples, it's like no one's ever heard the word hirsute, so the odds are higher some are inclined to shave their bodies in preparation for dresses or water fun, but I digress.

I run the water hot, it burns, I run the water on the array of razor blades and drag it gentle across the skin of the neck and down the cheeks, bottom lip and upper lip, then over both my brows. I wish I didn't have to do this, but I feel it deepest down that it will benefit me the most if I can push to survive more close calls so I may appreciate myself.