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When you’re asleep I sit in the light, studying your movements
When you’re asleep a sit in the dark, syncing my breathing with yours
When you’re asleep I lie next to you, drinking your mumbles, the sounds your stomach make, the smacking of your lips
When you’re asleep I lie awake

There is something so very special
about the perk in the curl of your eyelashes
the lifts and dimples of your cheeks
and the way your lips part like blossoming flowers in the spring
flush with pale pink color that I draw my lips closer to touch

My worries dissolve like the flutter of your eyes
as you leave our world together and travel off to your own
maybe I can visit you there, but it doesn’t truly matter
I’ve elected to stay behind with the other half of you.
And it stays so very charming, when its fingers—your fingers
wrap themselves around mine when my hands reach for yours.

Why is there something so securing, so beautiful, and so safe
about being in a tide alongside someone who’s unconscious?
you’re hardly any good here, asleep, unaware of burdens round us
you can’t even fight the spider now crawling down the windowframe
you’ll never even know he was there, had I not been here with you
I’ll take care of it, darling, and you’ll never have to know
When you’re out and I’m still here I can rise, protect both of us.

Come on little spider,
oh please do not be afraid of me and this fateful kleenex tissue

Home fort is safe again. My focus is back onto you. And your lips.
And your nose. Is it even possible to admire someone this much?
A hair is poking out of it. Maybe two even. And yet you’re perfect.
Every trait of yours a detail on an exquisite piece of art. And god no it’s not your looks.

It’s your heart, really:
the one part of you that travels to both worlds.
By day it stays mine, loving me back as I try to hide my own
translating my affections into non-misheard obsessions
keeping me safe. And painting my world beautiful.
But at night it follows you, off to lands of magic and adventure
Painting your world full of color and light, even as you lie in the dark
Such a functionally simple *****. And yet somehow I’m alive in it.

This ending wasn’t meant to make sense.
I'm more Picasso
than micheal Angelo,

More the scream
than Shakespeares dream.

I'm more soda pop and candy bar,
than French champagne and caviar.

More British  mini,
than Lamborghini.

More dandelion than red red rose,
more off the peg than designer clothes.

I'm more quiet nights in,
than goin clubbin.

More keeping it real,
than faking the deal.

So if you want more, but less is just fine,
then baby I'm yours as long as you're mine.
I do not know how to touch you
I falter and you make an uncomfortable sound
I caress for hours
Still happy moans you do not emanate
Running my hand up and down
With practice maybe I can learn
How to make you gasp a voice of pleasure
For hours on end I will try, I do not mind
It pleases me to no end, to attempt all night
Strum, strum, there has to be a pattern you like
Some sort of rhythm that makes you sing

Ah the laments of beginner's guitar
Last night I suffered 90% burns


**** your lips are hot.
I eat the right food, I have the right friends
I buy the right clothes to keep up with the trends

I know the right people, I'm right in my head
Every morning I get up on the right side of the bed

I write the right lines and play the right songs
I sing the right melody when I'm singin' along

But when I'm with you, suffice it to say
I want to do the wrong thing in all the right ways

I can't find the right words, so I'll let my lips speak
Heavy gasps are the only response that I need

I'm right in the moment and you're right there beside
upright and downright, from your side to mine

We're electric
It's hectic
I push and you pull
we both love it *****
put our feelings on hold

No more right, no more honor
No more straight and narrow

I want dark, I want sin
I want lust by the barrel-full

Let's make all the wrong choices
Let's do all the wrong things
Let's walk the bad path
  and learn what wrong
             really means
I nearly got this one right
everything that is eternal
I hold endlessly internal
connected to the great procession,
angles came to reach full circle.
the adviatic mystery 
 is humming deep within my being
penetrating masks of fear
and bringing forth the truths I see.

approaching what was meant to be, 
a sense of self pours out of me.
intensified perplexity
contorting your peripheries.
you don't believe that I can be
this massive creature that you see,
with eyes as big as saucers,
picking up the light that
flickers behind skin.

with wishful hope of staying centered
swaying gusts of my endeavors
seek to settle down forever,
as the selfishness dissolves.
I have broken down the walls
that separate myself from you
as shifting earth will still revolve, 
wholesome love is the only truth.

& I love you.
A poet will hear a sad song
As the rain falls on the tin
They write the tears that no one hears
In the places pain has been

A poet will hear a whisper
In the early morning breeze
They write the call of the coming Fall
As it's talking to the trees

A poet will hear a love song
In the waves that caress the sand
They write the kiss that most will miss
Or maybe don't understand

A poet will hear a teardrop
As it's falling down your cheek
They write the sound when a tear is found
For its voice is much too weak

A poet will hear most anything
That others may not hear
From the very start they listen with their heart
And this makes it loud and clear
If she could speak
what stories would she tell you...

would she speak of all the times
she's been my shoulder
to cry upon
wiping tears from
puffy eyes

would she whisper soft your name
as I have
a thousand times
while squeezing her tight

would she recall the times
she's comforted me
when madness racked my mind
or gently nursed me
dabbing my fevered brow
when illness confined me to my bed

would she speak of all the times
she lay with me
supporting me
through long lonely
insomnia fueled nights

would she laugh
when she jokes about
all the times she's covered my embarrassment
or ran with me
naked
through unlit rooms

and would she promise you
one thing...

that you can share my dreams.
Your car confirms your existence.
When I see it stopped at the gas station
I wonder if there are new hands pumping
your gas, opening your door.
Making that laugh ring out in the night.
Tracing hidden messages on your back
with fingertips and lips.
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