I came upon a wolf one day
with eyes of fire and diamond-pelt
the crystallization of deductive logic
like a coat of snowflake swords

His whiskers were syringe-needles
dripping with the vaccine for stupidity
which I think he must have developed
in the laboratory of his moonlit mind

Fear I had of wolves, but some dark fascination,
a death-wish of my heart
bid me to walk awhile with him
and stroke his coat of blades until I bled

and he licked my hands.

But it was with fire, not ice, that he maimed me
at first the little embers, the little burns
the little ****** of something other than pure and peerless truth
that came from inside of him, where the diamonds were not

Your heart, friend wolf
was only a long, deep stretch of feverish despair
and though I would have licked your wounds as you licked mine
you refused to bare them to me and bit me instead.

Fear I had of wolves, once
but now I bear the marks where his diamonds cut
and his fire burned -
a vaccine for stupidity if I ever had one.

Describing you as things that are meaningful to me.
You are my Rose Colored Boy,
The blue to my gold.
The pink couch I wished I had room to own.

You are— the late nights watching Friends all alone,
The smell of mornings and the cold.
The pouring rain when I'm all warm and cozy at home.

You are,
The piece of writings I am proud of,
The feeling of my favorite gel pen on paper,
Eloquent words I use in my poems.

You are the sunset on my lucky days,
A warm hug— an embrace.
All the feelings of happiness,
And the sound of waves.
You are all the things I adore,
Keeping them safe.

Drinking to forget;
Mnemonic gin and tonic
hasn't helped me yet

.
How I wish I could lay my head
down gently on your thighs,
to make you moan and sigh aloud
and slowly close your eyes.

How I wish I could use my tongue
and give you more than rhyme,
to bring a flush up to your cheek,
of feelings beyond space and time.

How I wish that I could speak
in words of feathered certainty
and so entice your curious mind
to lay down with me for eternity.
.
.
© Pagan Paul (2017)

You look just like the girl I met 3 years ago.
You look just like the girl I lost 7 months ago.

But did I lose her
Or did she lose me,
Or did we both lose each other?

Can you lose something that was never really yours?
Something you thought you had
But really didn't?
Can you lose something
That was never there?
Can you lose a girl with rainbow hair?

Because 3 years ago
I met a girl
Who did not have rainbow hair.
But was a gay cliche,
Back then her hair was red.
Her hair was red and long,
Kept in place by a braid and a bandana.
And she made all the little kids laugh.

3 years ago I met a girl with hair the color of a blue that had started to fade,
And left a trail of sickly green dye behind.
Back then she had friends
And spent most of her days laughing until her core was sore the next day.

2 years ago
I met a girl
Who still dyed her hair with splat
But was now blue and purple.
Short
Half shaved
Blue and purple
To match her personality.

2 years ago I met a girl
Whose hair had been bleached
enough times that it felt like straw at the bottom.
Her hair was a red that made fire trucks look dull
And hurt to look at in the sun.
She held half smiles instead of her usual dimple faced grin.

Last year I met a girl
Hair just like the last
But more purple
Less blue.
Her body looked like a clean canvas without stripes.
The purple in her hair burst with paint
Creating whatever flowed down her pen.
Scratching dragons, tigers, and penguins,
The ink in her hair
translates onto the page,
And there was no way to describe it.

Last year I met a girl
Who spent her life in hospitals and trying to stay alive.
Her hair had become lonely without its color.
It was her natural black and bleached clashing in war.
Her ink on the page was words instead of sketches.

This year I met a girl.
This time I didn't know her.
All I knew was the rainbow hair
Cut off on one side,
And flowing to her cheek bone on the other.
She wore a black suit
White shirt,
And that shiny yellow tie she had always loved.
She loves ties.
Just like the girl I met 3 years ago,
This new girl loved ties.
She had a track record of bad mistakes
That matched up perfectly with mine.
This year I met a girl.
I had no clue who she was,
But she looked familiar all the same.
This new girl resembled the first.
She laughed often,
Smiled so big that her face hurt at the end of the day.
This new girl didn't live in hospitals.
She watched horror movies and tried to skateboard.
An unsuccessful plan.

And I realized.
These girls with colored hair and paints
are all similar.
They have the same goofy grin,
And a wrinkled up nose when they laugh.
They all have the same scar where their pet iguana accidentally scratched them.
They have infectious laughter that makes you turn your head to look back and see what it was.
They all have the same pale skin
That I've always teased about.
All of those girls,
Hated skirts
And wore cargo shorts or skinny jeans
With no in between
Those girls would not be caught dead in a dress
And only wore suits.
Only edgy punk rock clothes
Without listening to the bands
And instead listened to Florence.
All of those girls had the same name
And they all had the same personality.
The girls were identical in soul.
Those girls were one person.
Those girls were my first love.

And I realized,
These girls all have the same ****** structure
And the same choice in music, clothes, and morals.
All of those girls had the same undeniable light
With a spirit that wanted to touch everything.

Today I met a girl.
I met a girl who smiled as she wrote this,
And didn't feel an aching when she wrote about her first love.

Today I met myself.