We, at times, contemplate how you will wreck each other

I'm nostalgic for something that I don't know ever existed.

The sky is thick with the expelled breaths of broken hearts. The stars are sharp like teeth, cutting through the night so young lovers can inhale other atmospheres.

The sky is thick with the expelled breaths of broken hearts. The stars are sharp like teeth and cut through the night giving young lovers glimpses of other atmospheres.

I glide my tongue along the edges
of your teeth
noting tiny details of each
wanting to fill the spaces between
teeth
ribs
fingers
temples
settling into grooves and crooks
memorizing arcs and angles
the circumference of that dimple
the break in your clavicle
You are filling my thoughts and palms
with elements and idea(l)s
oceans and orbs
I collect them carefully
press them to my lips
like (your)
fingertips and wrists
and squeeze them
to my chest
where breath and words swell
feelings stir

So this is what it feels like to smile.
Splayed like graffiti across my face
a sideways smirk
coquettish
beaming
and that secret dimple (my dead giveaway) has no place to hide
You ask me to drive around the block a few more times
and play you some songs
like we have all the time in the world

A man stopped me in a bar to tell me I was beautiful with so much sincerity that I didn't think for a moment that he was trying to **** me. I thanked him. He told me to have a great day.
I lock eyes with passersby and think sometimes maybe they can envision a lifetime with me in that instant, or maybe they want to grab a cup off coffee and talk for hours like old friends.  
I realize that I'm smiling at strangers now with that flirtatious smirk that you told me made you nervous, I know this, because someone pointed out my dimple the other day.

I watched your lips move
I shook as if the plates shifted when your lips parted

The line from your chin to your neck could unclasp me altogether
but I will
compose - restrain - hold back

I want to walk the bridge of your clavicle
and take my time
unearthing secrets that exist
on the other side of your shoulder blades

I gasp again at my daydream
fingers over lips
processing my full emotions
where-when-how
I wait for lust to move

I am soft with hungry eyes
you feed me
with sharp wit that cuts to my core
Brilliance seeps out
through small holes in me
casting shadow puppets of lovelust and longing
on shimmering walls

I wake and immediately grieve