Do not trust boys
who kiss you in your drive way.
If they can't make it to the front door
there must be something wrong.

I have had many first kisses in my driveway
and every boy that has given me one
has turned out sour.
Do not trust boys who kiss you in your drive way.

If they are too lazy to walk the extra ten feet to your front door
then they are most likely too lazy to walk
the extra mile in a relationship.
Effort is key my friend.

I cannot bare to stand in my driveway.
Memories come flooding in
from this boy and that.
Do not trust boys that kiss you in your driveway.
Trust me on that.

I have nicknames and designations for all my friends.
You, not a ghost but a phantom, not a ghost because you are my friend, always, and I will always love you.
But a phantom, an echoed impression of a  old friend.
Foggy, misty, silhouetted figure with a familiar outline and unfamiliar details.
Looking for the person you wee in the ancient days of my youth like looking for rice in a snowstorm.
Not trying to rekindle an old flame you see,
but trying to find the fire-words to light a new one.

I saw a question
in your eyes
the last time we walked.

I can’t remember
the sky
ever shining bluer.

I wonder, if, somewhere
under passion-colored leaves
you found an answer.

Let us whisper into the coming darkness
Full moon tonight spreading out consciousness
They say it can drive a sane man mad
I feel it's weighted pull against my thoughts
Pearlescent glow outlines the heated relief of your skin
As calloused fingertips ring giggles from the edges of mine
We play, you say, like children
Wrestling with pillows, our inhibitions
Until there is nothing left but heartbeats and feathers
Crowding around us as witnesses to completion
*I hope we will always be this close

My fingers itch to coast along your sensitive tips
Each sigh and tremor enough to make me remember
What spring sunlight feels like
After a long, dark winter