I would ask you for clarity
  a wafer-thin string of words to
    melt on my tongue and
       sing me to sleep
                                        because clocks keep us apart
                                          and the closeness drives me insane

but I won't.

                        I'll keep safe harbor like a lighthouse
                            and wait for your ship to come home

A color scheme settles, into the black and white.
The areas once shaded, crosshatched, and scratched out
Have been evenly filled in with vibrant colors.

A yellow sets itself within the confines of lines on a page
As the dense blue stains heavy paper, with a bold sincerity.

Details without color, drew out texture and description.
Greens brought out life in these lines,
Red, added a thrill and suspense.

I am black and white,
I am simple, but complex to the detail.
Let's not ruin a good thing,
Color is complexity.

I remember you, in the night last September.
It was cold, and you tasted
of the alochol we had illegally sipped
Smiling at each other over gem-rimmed bottles

I remember when we kissed, for the first time
That night in September
And it warmed me to my bones, and I could have stayed there
with you
forever

I remember your hands, last September
Touching the burning skin of my cheek, hooked in the belt loops
of my faded blue jeans.
I remember your eyes,
How they found the brightest star in that starry, starry sky,
And how your voice, whispered,
"That one's ours."
Your fingers fluttered at the hollows of my hips,
cold,
because you'd given me your jacket, and you
were freezing.

I remember you last September.
I knew you last September,
And I wish I had known myself.

I remember how it ended, when it ended,
That morning last September, so soon
after it began, "I've been thinking..."
And I remember, last September


hating you.

I know someone who finds solace in ballet shoes
                A boy who strums his secrets to guitar strings
Someone that spends his waking moments with glazed red eyes
             As if facing this world cold turkey
                       Isn’t even an option.

For boys whose fingertips shake
                Like the burning end of a cigarette
And girls whose smiles resemble
Car crashes waiting to happen
A cacophony of shattered noises
             And those of us who feel guilty for the
                     mere act
                           Inhaling air
                        And exhaling poison
So we spend lifetimes holding our breaths

   Until we burn our lungs out trying
            To warm our hearts
            With something other than the fire
           That burns out in a smoky haze

Until our eyes become rivers,
flowing oceans
That cry out a thousand melted glaciers

Our tongues speak ruined languages
We read everything backwards
Curse in Latin
Make oaths in Russian
So whatever we say sounds beautiful.

So that our hands wont have to learn permanence,
affection
consolation.

Not so much vulnerability as
          wide-open hearts because
     ten years from now we'll look back at
                   where we are and note the
                                 change in what's around
                                                with a smile, if I have
                                                            ­     anything at all to
                                                                ­                 say about life

that's right.
                             We.

You are the ice that layers itself under the snow,
And what I have to watch out for with each step, as I walk.
You are always there, in my mind.
But you are not always here, because if you are I can't see you.

It seems so complex,
The way that you linger around
Even after you're long gone.
But this is as simple as ice in the winter.

When I think it is safe to run,
I may slip and fall down again.
Because you are always there.
You are always here, my ice.

I can not rid you from my life entirely,
as much as I wish it were possible.
I will make the same mistakes,
If I do not watch where I am walking.

I must live with the realization that the ground is not solid.
knowing that walking on, is not as easy as I have remembered.