the scent of her sweat
cigarette ash on my skin
she says, "don't forget."
as she whispers to my ear
the story of how we met

Lately
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Unfamiliar.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.

I was left in shambles,
I was left in the cold
Then she appeared like angels,
So divine and so bold
We danced through a sunshower
We baked the perfect batch
Oh so full our bellies were
It was a perfect match

Insanity is such a playful word
I want to extract each of your teeth
To play the most iconic drum beats of all time.
Make snarled rhythm out of your body
One.    Last.    Time.
Underneath the howling moonlight
We made love to.  
And you sat shivering.
Insanity holds such ambiguity that it's ready to burst.
So intense as it sits stinging you like bees
Watching you H. U. R. T.
Or leaving you laughing at strange.

I guess what we have is insanity
That it is driving me off the edge
And keeping me together all the same.