sunspot
sunrise
sunshine
moonshine
i lick you off my lips like strawberry
pineapple
grape juice
a fine wine that i’ve never drunk.
asteroid belt
orion’s belt
daddy’s belt
i am opening the door a crack for you only to slam it in your face—i am
waiting for you to knock
to pound your fist against the gate
to break your hand on the wood
i am waiting for you to say that you love me
and i am waiting for myself to believe it completely
(i think you do but i am still afraid you might leave me)
((jupiter has 67 moons and i think that i might be
each and every single one of them)).
oort cloud
smoke cloud
the burning ash of my father’s lit cigar flicking onto my hands
i am awake at night and thinking about how you no longer taste like lung
mouth
kidney cancer.
my grandfather almost died of prostate cancer
my friend is dying of brain cancer
my father will probably die of liver cancer
there is not enough space in the cosmos
for all of us, is there? … God?
meteorite
meteoright
i am trying to sleep without your face in the back of my neck
hand on the back of my hand
leg tangled around the back of mine
i am trying to telepathically whisper my secrets into your ears
but the only problem is that i have not yet
mastered this form of communication—
i think that everything would be so much easier if i just didn’t feel.
language poem I wrote for my poetry portfolio last semester.