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 stopped believing in god because I couldn't hear him,
because each night I prayed I felt foolish when no one answered,
because I couldn't see the evidence of him but his absence.
But I realize, that religion is faith
trusting, blind and sometimes deaf
faith is the blind leading the blind.
I stopped believing in god because I found people.
because, I could reach out and be held,
because I could close my eyes and feel their presence,
because I could talk and finally be heard.
I put my faith in the cracks of their hands
and even if they lied it didn't seem to matter,
they could hurt me and I could hurt them;
we could be mutually destructive and yet create
something beautiful together.
I belive in people and sometimes they believe in me.

i don't deal with my problems;
i bury them in my yard and in
my haste forget that weeds grow
without the need of water.

I can't sleep
Everytime I remember your words
They snap and recoil
And hurt me awake
Next time when someone
Promises me forever
I'll just smile
Look them in the eyes and ask
How long is forever to you.

sunflowers bloom from your lips
you smile and suddenly i can't see
you've got the kind of laughter
that can make the rain sound softer.

Dear past me,
I found a suggestion to write to our future self.
And, after much thought and deliberation, I found myself unable to thinks of us further than today.
Although, the past you and present me converge today, we both understand, that even now, our future is uncertain. And, it's all down to present me.

So, dear possible future,
there's a few things I know:

I know the sky is blue; sometimes.
The day before today was yesterday and after will be tomorrow. But yesterday is now certain. Written down on a rock. It is now a fixed point of life.
But tomorrow may not come. The sun not rise nor the moon fall.

Tomorrow is the great perhaps.
Sleeping; waiting to be awaken.
We are Schrodinger's cat. Both alive and dead inside the box of tomorrow.

That even if I can't see myself further than today;
here's to the things written and unwritten,
to the you before and the me after.
Here's to the great perhaps and maybe of tomorrow,
To the us who know,
and the uncertainty of now.
That to whatever yesterday decided,
tomorrow might forgive us.
Here's to the fine line between the past and future,
that it might meet our present and if not-
that it will remember us even if just today.

Here's to us,
anywhere in time.

this haunted house feels like us;
memories floating around like ghosts,
your shadow in the corner collecting dust
and the words of coversations like creaky doors
at midnight.
i've got the bones of ours hearts inside a
chest but forgot where the skeleton key went.
dared each other to go in, because, somehow
something dangerous and sinister makes the blood
pump faster.
now that we've left each other haunted,
afraid to love someone new once more-
was it worth not being called a coward, you think?

after all, just like you, my ghost will linger too.