reality bends and shakes
my perception. my skeleton
rattles. honey sticks to skin.
my survival came from a
dream. silence the thunder of
girls and coffins and the sea.
dressed in light, no longer
afraid. we chase the romance
of ticking clocks and haunted
hallways. how long have I
lived without wings?

close your eyes to inhale my
flame. I like your November smile.
teeth are good for making memories
on the skin, the neck, the thigh.
here is my heartbeat- my November
heartbeat I have built for you.
never close enough is good
enough for me. our chests light
up after a long period of sobriety.
you and I are a complex state of mind.
my mouth is filled with your name.
let me hold onto your shoulders while I
pull myself back into the space where
you and I are supposed to reside.
I will always be waiting.

I believe in boys with avalanche
throats and rattlesnake tongues.
I believe in weaving our golden veins
together until our wrists bend like
a dozen wilted roses.  I believe in
sinking into myself the way each
sunset melts into a sapphire sky.
I believe in our tiny existence.
and I believe in waiting for even the
smallest sparks to ignite.

every dripping memory will
gnaw at the knots in your
stomach when you undress.
your thick honey spine will bend
into that blue-eyed boy. do not
hold his hand; you will find that
his scars match yours.

choke on a night terror right before the
sun finds your missing rib. soft as moth
wings, your lips part and honey spills
onto the bathroom floor. thunder never
apologizes for loving so loud so why
should I? my tongue is as heavy as your
head during your last nicotine buzz.
drowning is simpler than four-year-old
me would have believed, I think.

you will be my favorite hurricane
built from burnt tongues who do
not know the way your
body works. I do. I know
which words will spill from
your lips when they
part and I am making your
arms my new midnight
sky because we both feel
at home in the dark.
my poems will make you
known for your eyes.
ask me what my favorite
color is and I will say
ocean. I will say future.
I will say survival.

a cluster of constellations gathers
at the foot of his bed.
the sky opens wide and the
wolves are let loose.
running away into the night,
that blue-eyed boy walks alone.

his shoulders are covered in golden
dust so I bathe in his sweetness.
as soft as a moth's wings, he draws
me in with his hungry heart.
there's a pale sorrow that comes
along with calling him "home".

infinitely delicate, like a thin layer / of stars. forgive me for the days / my spine bends too far into you. / the two of us are still pushing / our tongues into the open sky any / time we get the chance to / stop bleeding. you curled your fingers / around my thigh to hide from / anyone who isn't drowning. / train tracks set fire no matter / how much gold you pour into / the cracks.

I found your throat.
it is red. so red.
bend into me, baby, I'll take
your hand and drag you down
with me.
I'm higher than I've been in
months but I still want to climb
inside you.

I found your thighs.
they are eager. so eager.
wrap yourself around me, darling,
I'll pull you into me so you don't
fall behind.
I'm colder than they said I
was but my eyes say something
else entirely.

I found your scars.
they are tender. so tender.
we are more alike than you'd think,
honey, but I'll keep your wounds
wide open.
I'm softer than you thought but you
only look for me when I am
already gone.

romanticize the coffee she drinks
until she remembers to leave.
curl your fingers around her skinny
wrists and kiss her knuckles
so she makes your heart her
home. don’t forget to keep her
warm if she forgets to breathe.
trace her spine with your lips.
she says your name but you don’t
feel its familiarity anymore.