i did not grow up with siblings.
i grew up with half-sisters, half-brothers,
a step mom, just like in cinderella. except i never met her.
and i never will. (my dad would rather slash his own throat)
i was by myself,
with beanie babies and whispering sunlight.
i had to cover my ears when the screaming pierced,
blindfold my eyes when blood tainted the creases.
i made friends through my bathroom tiles,
the wavy puddles looked like old men, like crushed flowers.
i talked to inanimate objects, squirrels lurking behind bushes.
with the first bunny, i grabbed onto his fur.
with the first dog, i howled and panted, hoping to become.
i drew elaborate stories upon sidewalks, vanished into the lines of
majestic quests.
the real world was nothing but glass with tainted red.

“didn’t you wish you had siblings?”

i escaped. i’m here,
with scrapes and broken bones,
but i’m here.

you spread me like strawberry jam,
licking syrupy wrists and chewing on pips.
i will thaw leisurely, until my skin has saturated through
your insanity.
open me like a mango,
slurping, drops of juice upon blemishes,
sprinkling candy through open wounds.
bite through me, an apple hard and
mouth watering.
the pits of me will fall, searching for fertile soil,
and grow.grow.grow.

“you must know you’re beautiful”
somedays, yes. somedays, no.
the twelve year old me will haunt me most mornings,
placing nonsense like a flower wreath through my hair.
she’ll pick my stomach, stretching the skin like putty.
she’ll still her tongue out, gnawing at my bones.
i will hear the dark words, and they will stain upon my skin,
coal and smeared.
the fifteen year old me will creep in the afternoon,
smudging ink eyeliner, telling me there’s never a thing as toomuch.
she will sing into my pores, telling me i need to return to pale tiles
and empty hallways.
she will hide under my skin, waiting until the men and scary ideas return
to the base of my mouth.

my insides are pretty, beautiful (most of the time)
so give me more time, to work on the outside.
it has been long, i know.
but i need more.
more.

you lick me clean,
(no need for seconds)
i am dinner and desserts,
wrapped in one.
i have metamorphosed.
(you chipped and cracked until
the cocoon fell and shattered)
sticky air kisses my collarbone,
you slurp the salty water because no one can
satisfy you like I can.
the fields tingle through my old bones,
the lakes shiver upon my friable vents.
i am free, darling,
free only when i am with you.

the sun is calling all of us,
the wind is sneaking through our veins.
let our bones curve, not shake,
as the vines travel through our freckles.
your thighs may touch, but that is beautiful.
your stomach may not be flat, but that is beautiful.
your ribs may show, but that is beautiful.
do not let the scary monster of society lick you up.
frolic through the flowers, because you want to.
kiss the sand and soar through euphoria,
with nothing but shining eyes and crooked smiles.
you might have scars, but that is beautiful.
you might have stretch marks, but that is beautiful.
wear two pieces, one pieces, tank tops, sweaters, scarves,
because i will find you beautiful. and summer will find you beautiful.
dance with me into the sticky nights,
cry with me through the sunsets,
find your
beauty,
and ravish in it.
let us all be summer kissed,
and let us all be beautiful.

your body is my habitual enclave,
I know the roads, the routes, the rails,

the way it sparks in the night, how it creaks with the sun.
I coast your body like a map,
the compass in my palm quivers, the needle
whirls and swivels, disoriented, north left behind.
instead I will globe-trot through your anatomy,
with no concerns of foreign lands, with languages
of gibberish and people unfamiliar.
first, I will plunge into your shoulders,
gape at the brawn, the vastness,
compare them to the beautiful mountains seen in Colorado.
next, I will huddle in the wool of your torso,
stealing a quick snooze,
submerged in the berceuse of your coronaries.
afterward, I will drift among your hands,
skipping among the grooves,
stumbling upon the calluses.
then, I will float among your lips,
stealing speckles of salt while playfully
greeting your lingual.
and, and, and, my darling, this adventure
will exhaust me.
so I will traverse back, through your lips, your hands,
your torso, your shoulders, until
I come to my favorite monument.
they are waves full of sapphire, clashing among
charcoal thunderstorms, dancing along
fields of jade.
two orbs of magnificence (and mine)

you will smile, and ask how the journey was,
and I will reply, as always:

“unforgettable”

you bit valleys through my stomach last night,
gnawed your way through crevices on my neck,
nibbled love onto every orifice.
and today my body is numb with it all,
it is my favorite feeling.
when i glide my hand over, and the pain is raw,
fresh. new.
seeing the wounds, forming, gathering.
licking your name over and over on my lips,
searching for bits of you within my hair.
i ache, with throbs of pain, i ache, for you.
and next time i will tell you,
“no holding back”