Why did the birds
fly south without me

I would have come along,
I seek a greater warmth
as well

I'm sick of being cold,
I'm sick of being bitter

Blades of grass sparkle
in the reflection of the moonlight
as little crystalized
water d r o p l e t s
cling to them in spite of the biting wind

Yet not a flurry falls
but the air teases
a familiar s n o w y smell

December weather,
in early November
This is what w i n t e r feels like
at midnight

I wonder how it would feel
If your perfect straight white teeth
Left bite marks across my thighs.

Mortar crust upon my skin
from building walls too thin

to provide myself a sanctuary
where I can deny those who care for me.

I cannot resist my need to hide
So I lurk and recoil inside;

I clumsily regress into a crawl
as my tears remember how to fall.

a permanent frost
has become me
and no matter what i do
i have become
infinitely
eternally
cold

As we kissed
the constellations in the skies,
started disappearing one by one
and reappearing in his eyes.

I stumbled back
and looked with wonder,
an entire galaxy twinkled in his iris
but I spared myself from the inhuman lure.

Maybe he was a galaxy,
he was still not my world.

You paused to look at me as if you were browsing a book shelf
and your fingers brushed ever so slightly across my skin
hesitating, lingering, at my spine.

Then you chose me
you laid me down and opened me up
it wasn’t easy because not many have read me before.

Your eyes looked me up and down, side to side
taking it all in,
engorging yourself.

You licked your fingers before you turned my pages
for a steadier and more meaningful grasp.
You said paper cuts were pretty
and that they were safe with you.

But then,
you read something you didn’t like
slammed the book shut
and shoved it back on the shelf.

I have always felt familiar with the stars—
the nights I’m saddest,
happen to be the nights they are brightest.
And it leaves me to wonder
maybe there is an afterlife
in the sky
but not in Heaven,
except among the stars.

Don’t you find it all too curious
that the population of people
who have ever existed on Earth,
is all too similar,
to the amount of starry specks in our sky?

And why is it,
that each time a friend of mine has passed
I notice something brighter
among the clusters in space.

If this is the after life,
waiting,
I’m no longer afraid.