unable to act first
without complete reassurances

so i hesitate
contemplate
[wait]
finding solace in the imagined

while we're together
[or not..]
when we shared your bed
in my head
i've directed this scene countless times

CLOSE-UP / zoom in:
your lips seek mine
just briefly
plush petals pressed sweetly
between our pages
[faces]
intertwined behind
your neck my fingers & palms placed
& as i peel away
the corners of our mouths simultaneously draw up
as if on strings
[in my daydreams, we are my marionettes]
& my hand tugs at yours
to yank our bodies
from the middle of an evening street

this depiction
[fiction]
is lost in reality's roughness
practice is pretend when imagined
so i beg for steady hands
just to place one
FIRM
hand on your chest

stuck in the ebb and flow of things.                  ... things.

things

stuck

I'll no longer be

stuck in the ebb and flow of these things

Their breath clouds the air,
Like the smoke from a cigarette,
And so that is what they pretend to do.

They laugh at themselves lightly,
Both thinking that this youthful innocence,
Will always be apart of them.
They are naive and in that,
Beautiful.

They have few worries or cares,
Just worn shoes,
And an itch to continue walking through the silent streets.

One of them suggests
They should lie in the road,
And search above for constellations.
The other agrees with excitement,
And finds comfort on the pavement.

But as they look up,
They can not help but realize,
The city lights dust the evening sky,
Masking all of the speckled stars.
So heartbroken they rise,
And continue on forward.

Never bothering to look for silly things,
Like constellations,
Again.

The porcelain tiles felt chilled
against my bare back,
each one crawling
injecting into the pores of
my skin, they scalded into
the core of my bones.
Water lavished twin bodies,
Scorching feet and
exploding senses,
they ran across naked
forms, exploring every inch
just like our lust soaked fingertips.
We stood close, breath
shared between us,
Chests heaved in anticipation
as we became drenched
in the moment.
He grabbed my hair
in messy fistfuls,
Lips dripping
with flavor, his taste
was infectious as it seeped
into every inch of my being
we merged, one
like the sun sinks into the ocean.
I sank into him, giving myself
all of myself to ecstasy.
Like a drug, I was addicted
as each finger danced across his spine.
We dove in together
gasping at every breath
clawing at the rapture stained tiles
twisted hands entangled
squeezing for release
over waves of unrelenting pleasure.
A soft cry shot through
our submerged affair
awakening rolling figures
we became still, the rain
continuing to tap upon ourselves.
A single touch from his lips
expressed agony later to come
As we lay together on that
Still porcelain tile.

We have the slow and stumbling walk of a desperately unified group,
handicapped by our own disjointed versions of reality.
Each with unbelievable wonder,
each with uneven gait.
It smells of smoke - all the colors.
Also trees and whiskey and freshly chlorinated hair.

There's a praying mantis in front of me. He's a big one.
A boy my age stands below,
controlling the methodical movements of the insect sage.
They reach and bow and pray and walk in a circle with a unique unity.
The giant mantis looks at me and I run.

I only realize how quiet it is in this behind-the-fence-world when I hear those distinctly friendly giggles.
I'm pointed by these giggling fingers in the direction of perfect clown love.
Two painted faces dripping devotion from their exaggerated eyes.
Two pairs of suspenders over the violence of two hearts.
Four gloved hands with no limits.
And one striped leg under one striped leg through one striped leg over one striped leg.