tearing apart the flesh
peeling back skin
the cold juices
splash your lips as
i watch you undress an orange
wondering
do you love me like this?

i woke up and wrote a song
but forgot i couldn’t sing
so i ripped the page from my notebook
and threw it to the birds
they can have the rights and everything.

Your skin still smells like,
The first time I touched you:
Like late Sunday afternoons,
On long weekends,
Sweeter than expected,
With all the time in the world.

My heart suffers
From ingenuity
As I learn new ways
To love you, constantly
I can tell you sweet things
Or, they can be *****
Whatever you want to hear
I can play your song
Softly

i waited for tomorrow
because they said it wouldn’t rain
but the weathermen
is often wrong and by the time
tomorrow came
it thunderstormed all day

She bathes in oils so rich,
Her skin glimmers,
Almost selfishly.

Her pleasures,
Cascade, and her,
Pain cuts deep.

But, of course,
She does not bleed,
Her blood is thick,
And far too sweet.

with a sense of calmness
i waded through the water
and ever ripple i inspired
had a thousand daughters

She did her best
To swallow her cries
But still couldn’t hide
The tears that were
Over throwing power
in her opalescent eyes