Your ex-girl friend looks like ice
and I'm fire.
Talk me down to Earth,
the energy has ***** my heart these days.
Desire.

Sacral chakra running roses through the ground.

Dragon's blood ink - I wanna write your name.
It's red like eyes from the winter, red like boiling point.

Do you miss my lipstick or Scarlett - my name?

The color of a liquid you would sacrifice for injustice
in the name of a government.

Red like the sheets in the hotel bed when I took your virginity.

The color of the gang you represented at every night club,
the hand motions from club meetings that yearned rebellion.

I want to see your tattoo I drew to depict you a month before you got it.

Red like cop lights that saw the last of you.

111

I am crying and typing
about a sunken ship below a hurricane
in my chest.
My description stays here, the rest lodged
in this moment because you are too far away
to feel this.
Accept and handle loosely
I must remind myself constantly

Times are tough for lovers
The road needs travellers but
Is selective on who is allowed to journey on.
I was not chosen.
Stuck but not stagnant
Impatient but waiting because what else can I do?
The world loves you.
I am competing against something that is larger than life.
All I can give is my mouth, my hands, my intellect, my affection amd attention.
Petty compared to the mountains, the oceans, the sirens, the unknown.
Without your energy engaged with my body
The atmosphere tastes bitter.
Light headed all the time because I need your water.
When will you be spit back home?
You're Embraced in the arms of the world
But now am I lonely because
I feel that way when you're holding me.
These times... They are tough for lovers.

Your body language is hard to read like teen vogue magazines -
shallow and they don't give a real message.
Free stylin' courageously as I'm bumping to the music.
The stage set solo with the spot light on me.
This is my chance to speak without my tongue.
Crown chakra open ,
purple fat lotus plump and focused.
Accepting, recieving, translating phenomena,
through my skeleton.
I allow the rhythm take me wherever it needs,
water fountain pouring out of me.

All I had to do was lie down and close my eyes.
Listen to his voice take me deep down inside myself.
Suddenly, there is a wooden double door at the base of a mountain.
He tells me, "Open your unconscious and step inside... What do you see?"
A boy with blue saucers piercing my brain,
******* to a chair with a bandanna over his mouth.
Those blue saucers... how menacing.
I release him from the chair and he stands up and looks at me.
His blue saucers looking at me like I'm the alien.
I hang out there for a while until the voice says...
"Come back to this reality, shut the door behind you;
at the count of ten open your eyes."
I come back.
But him... he stays behind... untied but waiting.
For me to open the door again.

Days pass effortlessly
I jump through them like hoops;
like hurtles,
like thoughts,
like water.
The question of the century:
will I ever see that facet of myself again?
To see your flesh.
Only way is to time travel forward so that I may
witness a flashback from the past.
The days pass effortlessly
but many moments I sit still struggling.
My body is moving around but does not know
what it is doing.
You flicker and float in my conscious
like a warning,
like a nuisance,
like a red balloon rising in the sky.
Can't help but notice as it passes by.
Attempting to peer through clouds beyond the sun
and out onto the galaxy, I pray to the cosmic forces
to align you and me.
Days pass effortlessly.
Planes glide elegantly.
Your spirit is found where I am not.
And in that lonesome dwelling place where I reside,
I wonder if our energies will ever get the chance to collide.
Days pass effortlessly
and my question lingers persistently.
To see your flesh.

What was I thinking falling in love with an older man?
No **** he broke my heart.
He's thirty-one.
I'm 18 and dumb.
This is not a poem,
just a lesson.