The lips that met,
never touched. Or could she only
dream?

The sweat beading upon my brow,
as she was spread out like a
feast.

When certainty is unpronounceable,
and air beats harsh and stark,
can anyone not see me screaming,
at these never fading blister marks?

Well she lives, a life allowed
permitted apostrophes
clinging to the nerve endings
in my mind.

Where are you, suddenly,
a cry from the night.

I could bleed from these arms,
into my hands,
which once seemed so strong,
drown my prize
in nitrogen and scar tissue
and maybe then I'd be happy
to destroy myself
again.

If I had you in my hands,
petal,
cradled from the rot
guarded from the corruption
the world assails you with,
I would hold you firmly
and never let you go...

Never let you go.

A basic formulation,
stereotype breaking sunshine
beams into our closed blinds,
early sun rise moments,
hidden from the world,
connected by
flesh, sweat, murmuring words
in the security of this moment,

I've driven away from it all,
look into my eyes,
we both can go blind.

She has brittle pale wrists.
She hides them,
like sunshine,
in her pocket.

Why couldn't real be obtainable?
Why don't these broken teeth release me already?
Why does everything hurt like glass?
Speeding into oblivion,
with you without you.