Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses,
Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made of flowers,
Feasted, we guide it - our fingers
Like tallows adorned with yellow metal -
Over the sky's hot rim,
The day's last breath in our sails.

Pinned by the sun between solstice
And equinox, drowsy and tangled together
We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope
Lowering a bucket down its well. Then,
We came by night to the Fortunate Isles,
And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses.

I've got to go get it,
I've got to be the best,
And I've got to convince you that
I am all of these things
Inside of me that you've never seen.

I am this shy boy
Despite my loud and obnoxious facade.
Its all misplaced bravado,
An excess to cover up for how nervous
You really make me feel.

You've seen my loud mouth,
And you've watched my self-centered strut,
But what you've never seen is the inside of me:
The romantically inclined mind,
The thoughtful, caring heart,
And my longing to understand your soul.

So give me the chance to be
Everything I could ever be,
Most importantly, everything you'll ever need,
And it all starts with you
Taking a moment to see all of these things
Inside of me you've never seen.

I fear the way you love me:
That tender-touching kiss
Seducing me to nightly
Sink deep in your abyss.

Those smooth caresses take me
To places that I dread,
Your cunning fingers rouse me
To plan such lies ahead.

But while we writhe and tumble
In lust's hypnotic hold,
I fear the final stumble
That will see the truth unfold.

Sir, I'm in front of you to tell that
     I do love your daughter,
And I never have a rehearsal to what words
     to be uttered.
Sir, I'm here to be transparent
     about a love I found,
I'm just nervous, so please don't feel
     my voice to be unsound.

Sir, I'm asking your princess' hands;
     your princess is your precious gem:
I love her not just because I love her;
     I will make her my queen.
Sir, she stained my heart with love;
     sir, I hope you understand
I will never leave her alone, we'll be together
    walking on the strands.

Sir, please don't cast away your eyes
     from this name I owned,
I never have a replica of my love for her,
     your daughter is the only one I long.
Sir, the fact is irrevocable, I love her
     and she loves me
And the church will be the witness
     about these things I'm saying.

If I need to kneel on the floor
     and beg for the chances,
Sir, I will never doubt to do it, if this
     can only change your mind.
Sir, I have never been like this,
     I honestly love your daughter sir
And my life is worthless without her
     near by my side.

When the beautiful day comes, I hope
     you'll be with your daughter on the aisle;
I will offer my life to her sir,
     and I will take care of her every time.
Sir, I will marry your daughter,
     so please let me wander the world with her
I can't truly afford to lose her,
     and only be drowned on memories.

Sir, your answer will matter the most,
     if I should gain or lost;
But sir, I will fight my love for her
     even the skies turned to be the worst.
She's my everything, and I need to be
     transparent about what I feel.
Sir, I will marry your daughter,
     can we have now your blessings sir?

If an easy rain
would make the rocks slippery,
he would hold my hand.

They are strangers now, separated by their worlds and walls.
There is no chemistry, no spark, nothing special.
They are simply strangers, sharing a couch.

One is autumn, one is spring;
one likes talking, and the other? Listening.

If walls could talk, they’d weave a tale so tragic.

In the beginning, he was sun, and she was moon.
At the ending, she was running, but he was leaving.

In the beginning, there are many things.
There is music, and laughter, and broken strings.
They have cooperation, and commitment, and promises.
Her mom gives them glasses, his mom gives them dishes.
She has her charcoals, he has his guitar.

At the ending, close to the ending-
There is his guitar, her laughter, they’ve broken things.
And that is all that is left.

Promises and glasses, dishes and hearts.
A year of trying and losing is written on the walls;
the wallpaper- peeling, the curtains- ripping.

He clears his throat, she stills- hoping.
“I’m sorry,” she hears, and it’s okay.
“I’m sorry,” she hears, “that it’s ended this way.”

I’m sorry, she hears. I’m sorry, that it’s ended this way.
I’m sorry, she hears. That it’s ended this way.

“It’s ended this way?”
“I’m ending it this way.”

I won't tell you I love you when I don’t.
I won't tell you I miss you when I don’t.
I will tell you I take the long way to class
in  a Chicago January
in the snow
on foot
just to finish dissecting Teenage Dream because you said that song reminds you of me
I will tell you I devote time out of my day solely to thinking about you  heart heavily.
Because I am always thinking about you, fair warning.
And if I let myself indulge a week's worth of thinking of you in one minute,
maybe I can study some for my midterm in the morning.

I won't tell you I love you when I don’t.
I won't tell you I miss you when I don’t.
In those blindsiding instances of stark realization,
when I get a knee **** reaction putting on my scarf that still smells like fruit passion
because I made you wear it on the El platform to fend off a wind that round every corner could bend,
I will take out my blackberry, tear off my gloves, and tempt frost bite on the tips of my fingers
to send you a text that reads “I miss you.”

I won't tell you I love you when I don't.
I won't tell you I miss you when I don't.
Baby, I need not be insincere, I am not in love. Yet.
And it’s not you, and it’s not me. It is everyone else here.
Everyone else beating my brain in with cosmic signs
of Matt and Kim playing on the radio when they never play Matt and Kim on the radio.
Every poet pleading with me personally will flip their pages and I will be deemed defenseless against all odds.
I will tell you I love you, and I will mean it so fiercely
my chest will cave in upon itself thumping like a cartoon and creating a gooey mess of pink hearts.
Because you heart pink hearts.

I won't tell you I love you when I don’t.
I won't tell you I miss you when I don’t.
I will tell you embedded in the endless, elusive scenes of whimsy that make up my insides,
that song by The Darkness will play over every loudspeaker in the Student Center
because you paused,
you looked at me,
and you said “I love you. I really love you.”