I met someone
we had some fun
then we were done

he made me so happy I couldn’t write
he made me so happy I didn’t bite
he made me so hopeful I thought we might...

I met this man
whose daddy hand
could burn my sand

we stole each other’s shirts
kissed each other where it hurts
planted flowers in these dirts

repainted stained and tainted glass
gave each other words to pass
decided not to pay for class
alas...

sand falls through spaces
between fingers’ interlaces
wind blows it in our faces

we shared some time
body soul and mind
there is no rewind

I said things I didn’t mean
Across the darkness like a screen
Pages burned and turned the scene

feels like putting my hand
on something sharp kinda day
invincible temporary, of course
fight the system on a february dawn

where the lamp's lambent spheres
bob in and out of existence
as the sunshine overcomes their presence

first kiss with you, like hands
dancing in the fires
trying to stay warm in the winter light
an ogre of a dream, a curse to be this shadow

compared to the glow of an angel like you

are holding hands.
I think
they think they are
in love,
in the eye
of a glorious storm,
with aisles of x’s
in text messages,
a wink that suggests
anywhere but here
is better.

The babies of
this century,
maked-up more
than the generation before,
flecks of snow
in a blizzard
of pimples and kisses,
condoms and phones.
There is no jealousy,
just a shift in the times,
a jolt in the system
of snotty noses and whispers.

They look happy, at least.
Love, or something like it,
a blossom in their lungs.
Now, I wonder,
walking,
if they know what comes.