light me up like the joint you lit in your room filled with outdated things
"Have you tried shrooms?"
Drugs! Hah! What a marvelous way to exist
life gets me high enough, it ***** me up,
All that I see is your ignorance and it blinds me and wraps me up
like a piece of gum you chewed and placed on the gum wrapper I orignated from,
I repeat, light me up, like the bulb in your room that you turned on as a child to read books late at night
but now you light it up before you **** a girl just right
and she moans and enjoys it cause shes all yours tonight
she says, "be my match, be my fuse, transfer your flame, let me be your muse"
You are my wind, but I am just a kite

the only knot i tie
is the one in the thread
i use to stitch you a smile
see,
i'm not saying i want you forever
i just want you in the moment
your mouth curls up
at me
boy, i call that smile a library
'cause i want to know
every word you've ever uttered
so come at me
with all your pages
& i'll fill every "to-do" list
i ever write
with your name
over and over
you know,
i can't run a mile
without tripping
or gasping for breath
but i'd lap
your marathon skin
til we both
reach that finish line
that's to say,
i'm not looking to make you mine
i'm not,
i just want to feel your frequency
vibrating around me
i'll let you untie the knots
in my stomach
if you let me climb inside your heart
till it's covered
in stretch marks
boy i just love the risk
of kissing your cigarette lips
with my flammable chest
so light me
& i'll spread around you
like a forest fire
my burning bark
is worse
than your charred bite
but if there's one thing
i know for sure
it's that i'd let you burn me
i'd let you
burn
me.

He studies her.
She is sitting  just across from him, re reading the same book for the 12th time.
Literally.
She is always finding a new book, and if it was really good, it was all she would talk about. He loves that about her.
The way her long, dark blonde hair contrasted her structured cheek bones. He loves the way that her eyes turn dark green when she cries, and when she’s smiling, the way you can see her small dimples.
He loves the way she wears his shirts around the house.
He loves the way she lights candles, because she thinks the house smells “beautiful.”  

“Babe, do you want some tea?”  he asks, reaching across the table to hold her hand. Her nails are a pastel coral.

He loves the way pink looks on her.

“Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you.” She says, looking up from her book and smiling at him.

He stood up, and walked over to the white tiled counter that had his Canon on it. He loves taking pictures of her. He prepares the camera.

He notices the way her large white sweater droops over her shoulders, exposing her pale skin. You can almost see through her, like she’s some kind of glass you don’t want to break.

The whole kitchen was completely white.
But it didn’t look weird.

She had put up little drawings of cute things, like pugs, cats, poetry she had written, all in pastel colors. The sun from the window was hitting her face perfectly, and he takes a few pictures. She acknowledges him taking the pictures, and just continues to read. 


“God, you’re beautiful. You know that, right?” He mumbles, while facing the kettle.

“I don’t think beautiful is a word to describe me, baby.” She responds, looking over her shoulder to see him.

She admires the way his curls were wild and rugged when he didn’t brush his hair. Or the way you could see his tattoos through his white shirts, when he wore them. She admires the way he tries to impress her by doing silly things.

She admires the way his dimples show when he gets really excited and happy, and the way his green eyes could make any girl swoon.

Quite often, she thinks about how he could have any girl he wanted, yet he chose her, in all her glory.

m.g.