there’s many things i’d like to tell you
i want to ask how your day went and if you were happier than ever
i’d like to ask if you’re alright and if not you can talk about it
but if you don’t want to that’s fine too
i want to know your favorite things and why these are the songs
that seem to leave their rhythm in your heart—
what makes your heart stop and what makes it spark?
are you an evening person or do you like when the morning sun kisses your skin telling you quietly “wake up darling, it’s a new day”
or do you like staying in when the rain pours outside while lovers share umbrellas?
did that pretty stranger you passed by in the street
make your heart stop gently the way you do to mine
or do you look down when you walk?
do i maybe cross your mind even if very briefly?
but all these questions and everything that i mean with such purity
are of no use—
once i begin to speak to you the words
stop in my
throat
with such shyness like death
and i stay
quiet like
this.

When all else
has been
flogged by time,
beaten by uncertainty
and consumed
by the earth...

All that’s left...

Is the salt
disowned by
indulgent cascades.

Sitting next to you
Feels like driving
On an easy path

Sitting in your shadow
Soothes my wounds
As an ******
Sedates life’s pains

I sit beside you
As you gather my
Responsibilities into
Your basket
And carry them for awhile

You help me understand
When to set blame aside
When to carry duty uphill
And when to let you grab
One of my hands
And pull me to your level

I sense a danger here
A bait as wispy and enchanting
As a fly fisherman's lure

desire,

i ache to know you,
to watch you approach me like wildfire
and render me helpless because yes—
i wanted this,
exercised my wildest imaginations
against the wishes of religion and morality
on afternoons when there was nothing to do,
drowned every bit of guilt for the thrill
of the world’s secrets i’ve never known.
i want to know how it’s like to need a body other than mine,
to have senses heightened and feelings wild:
you on my skin,
delicate touches as if reading a map,
and when you leave a phantom hand lingers
only to have me ask for just a little bit more.
a little bit more, please.
i want to know how to melt into another,
in limbo between lust and love
not being able to tell which is heaven and which is hell.
i want to know desire,
to, for once, feed what my body yearns to feel
and to no longer put out
the secret fire that burns in my chest.

new safe spot in between his collar bone and ear
wish i could hear his exhale right now
feel it on the top of my head as i rest.
do i trust him?
do i always?
will i ever?
can you believe a man really means what he says when the things he is softly mentioning in your ear are meant for the perfect woman, are too good to be directed at me?
i want to trust him, so i will.
&i'll softly mention that he deserves the world
(but i won't bring up that im scared i can't give it to him)