i always thought i'd lose it to you
in your borrowed twin bed with the plastic candy coating squeaking under sheets.
i always thought you'd touch my face and kiss me by the river and
i'd be in my red sweatshirt that i remembered so i'd never forget.
i always thought that i'd pull you into that dip in the trees near the circus
and finally melt our stretchy boundary.
i always thought you'd come around.
i always thought it was you.

when i think about you
and it feels free.
but i still remember how you smelled like milk and honey
how did you do that
like a baby almost
how did you do that
and a little musky
but i liked it.
your lips were so wet and so pink and i wanted them
on me
near me
wrapped around me
and you knew you came close but you never did.
****.
i always thought i'd see you again
smiling "i told you so" into your mouth through the smog
but i probably never will
and even if i do
it'll be by accident
and you won't even stop to
touch me.

am i supposed to feel sick when i think about you

she is a butterfly
i am a moth

every time i don't know what to do i want to hear your voice

i wish i knew how to forget you

missing your bony covered wrists that you hate but i love and your stiff hair that you only let me play with and the way you looked at your feet when you smiled and the way you looked at me and the way you walked and the way we sat together and the way you held me once and the way i held you once and your soft skin and hazy hazel eyes and big-enough hands and the way we’d talk and the way we knew how we felt and the way everyone else knew too and your smell your smell your smell and when you’d get close to me and your smell