only i can get me higher than this lowest place
but i imaged you held that power
no sanctuary, no saving grace
what's yours is yours
what's mine is ours
two hands i have
three feet away
too weak to reach
you see right through me
i can't forget your scent

CHRISTMAS MORNING IS SMOKE IN OUR LUNGS

i am an actress
according to my uncle
my ma and pa were not wild
he called me peaches as a child
he views life through the lens of foggy imaginary bifocals
he says god sent me to test his faith
i suppose as devil's advocate
he looks me in the eyes
and laughs
and asks how much they pay me

i once saw him during a trip
he may have appeared obsessed with the maryland rails
but he also may be wildly pursuing a withheld pension

he will introduce himself as henry VIII
but that is not the name my mom-mom gave him

i like where we're going, we're in the same book
but right now we're not on the same page.
we're young and we're ruthless, it aint entertaining
i've experienced much at this age

you push and i pull
then i push and you stay

the corners are dogeared
the pages are yellowed
the cover is filthy and stained
the bandages wrapped up around the old volumes
are ready to be torn away

you push and i pull
then i push and you stay

i'm walking, you're watching
i'm kissing your fingers
eyes kiss lids then i kiss a ways
i kiss all the lips off of state store products
so that you won't ruin my day.

you push and i pull
then i push and you stay

so you're hanging up others' dresses?
well i'm still hung up on guessing
how much to give and to take
you catch my eye,
i blush and i shiver.
look at this fool you helped make.

now i push and you pull
then you push and i stay

i would prefer you damage me than i, you.
i know i am suited to bear sorrow
on your behalf i am unsure
the worse pain is when the wound is nearly healed
when one must at last tear away the bandage and feel
the harsh sting of cope.
beyond the initial burn
there is hope.