loving him is poetry
and kissing him is art.

i'm used to being the creator
but being created from the affection
in his hands
and sculpted from intimacy
is a feeling like no other--
he doesn't just look, he sees me
every stray brush stroke
every drawn line
every brilliant color,
down to my skeleton,
he strips me of pretense and glows
with acceptance.

i am a bared soul,
battered and bruised,
shaken and scarred,
but even so--

i'm something beautiful in a gaze
like that.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

You are not what I am looking for
not the flashlight in a power outage
not my mother’s hand when crossing a busy street
not a glass of wine in the middle of a stressful week.

You are not kind or creative
you are not clever or desirable
you are not unique.

You are drunk
pulling on my skirt
pleading for permission that I’m too weak to deny

I am trying to blend in with the walls
as I watch you stumble down the hall to grab my waist
You are not what I am looking for.

You are bored and pessimistic
you are "I love you" one night
you are “I don’t want you” the next day
either way you are hovering over my chest
your fingers laced with my flesh
you are not what I am looking for.

You are a broken promise
you are the winter tree who refuses to grow leaves again the spring
you don’t believe in seasons
you are resistant to any change.

You are “I’ll stop” but never when you should
you are leaving me before I have the chance to leave you
running down the stairs screaming “catch me if you can”
unaware that I am anchored to my stance.
you are not what I am looking for.


You are a text that I usually leave blank
you are the shot of whiskey that finally leaves me drunk in the passenger seat of your car
you are playing really awful music
really loud.

You are “please, just this once” until 4 a.m.
I say “then will you let me sleep”
you smile as you steal opportunity from my heavy eyelids
you are an empty coffee cup and an awkward silence
the following morning
you are not what I am looking for.

You are “What if I never fall in love”
you are “I don’t want to be alone”
you are chain smoking  after an argument
you are using me
you are uncertainty
you are not what I am looking for.

An Oklahoma politician
wants to outlaw hoodies
in the hood

It's true, it must be
I read it in Fox News  :)

I'd sooner be in Missouri or Cleveland
or New York City where you don't have to
wear a hoody or raise your hands to get shot


There are other things more pressing
than hoodies in the hood
that don't need ironing

like hoods in suits
and the elephant in the room
that needs shooting.

She tests her own being.
A legend loved by all.
With her and Lancelot betraying
Destiny, the kingdom would fall.

Can we rewrite love?
Can we rewrite scripture?
Can we rise above?
Can we find our picture?

My dear Guinevere,
No more nights of tears,
Make the right decision,
Please, my lady, my dear?

We had a perfect plan.
We should have rode,
We should have ran,
We should have never spoken again.

Tearing down her future
They would burn her at the stake
As love and loyalty shared no shelter
Their dreams together, they couldn't make

It's now too late
It's now time to cry
It's now the last goodbye
It's not like you didn't try

But lest we die...

My dear Guinevere,
You have nothing to fear,
Your Lancelot is here.
This love story will withstand the years.