Theres a wind
present in each
of our lives..
The calmest breeze
can blow people
right into our path,
and a trecherous one
can whisk people away
in an instant.
We're all just
leaves in the Fall,
and only the
wind
knows all.

I envy his red lips,
His sharp hips.

I envy his warm brown eyes,
His breathing making his chest rise.

I envy his peaceful melancholy mind,
His soft words covered by rind.

I envy the light he leaks,
The elixir he speaks.

I envy his flushed cheeks,
The way I become speechless for weeks.

And even though I’m ripped apart,
He is my mind, he is my soul, and he is my heart.

Theres a theory
I hold onto.
One that says
every seven years,
each skin cell in your
body is renewed.

But
I cannot wait that long
to have skin that
hasn’t felt your
fingertips running
down my back,
or your tongue
dancing to the
rhythm of our
breathing.

I cannot wait that long
to have skin that
hasn’t felt your
sweet kisses,
that sent a sugar rush.


But at least
in seven years,
my skin
can forget.

Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses,
Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made of flowers,
Feasted, we guide it - our fingers
Like tallows adorned with yellow metal -
Over the sky's hot rim,
The day's last breath in our sails.

Pinned by the sun between solstice
And equinox, drowsy and tangled together
We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope
Lowering a bucket down its well. Then,
We came by night to the Fortunate Isles,
And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses.

We’re standing on the roof
Drunk off cheap whiskey
Yelling obscenities
Sometime in the a.m.
Below us two girls are French kissing
They look so sweet in their blue jeans.
**** reality,
We're livin' the teenage dream.