My friend today passed by the place where her best friend crashed
"Hi" she said as she passed by
She laughed but I could hear the tears in her voice
She missed him more than anything

So you can understand my anxiety when you told me tonight that you crashed your car
"I'm fine" you said when you called me
You laughed but I could hear the anger in your voice




I would have missed you more than anything

on the borderline, simple
thoughts guide breathing
patterns out from
the front porch: i
dream we
abscond, out through
blurred fencelines in
low light we trickle
through pockets of
wheat, the tumult of
everything under a
moon first distant,
gleaming and moving
creeks in your skin, pale
gold like i so often imagine
your eyes would turn
under the soft parting of
my lips. a ghost yet
unmade. haunted i, already.

in dreams, i do not have
you but
still, you take me by
the hand, utter warm silence,
make small motions, closer
by the day. i take out
my hairs one by one, clog
the sink a
tiny bit more. build an
ocean. sail to make
us, halfway. a wider
range, the only way out
a kiss on the wind. i
sent myriads, all lost;
still, maybe someday you'll
find one.

out under three thousand
shining points unstitching,
we mutually profess undying
nothing and graze skin. my
fingertips will never know
you.

you took every
fear i had about
inadequacy
and turned them
from mountains to
speed bumps,
reminding me
to slow down,
but never stop

Life is precious.

i know it’s such a cliche thing to say, to tell you your
eyes look like coffee mixed with cream, but your
hair reminds me of pennies sitting at the bottom of
rivers. and your shoulders feel like the mountains i stumbled
through in New Mexico.
i know it doesn’t make much sense to say your tongue contains
unreadable syllables, but your fingers create lightening,
and before you touch me, there’s thunder rumbling through my
sternum.
and i think the solar system is within your cheeks,
and those tears you spill have all the diamonds i could ever
want.
i know it’s such a cliche thing to say, to tell you your eyes
look like coffee mixed with cream, but you taste like
sunshine.

when i was fourteen i gave my first *******
without even knowing what “*******”
meant.
lips did not touch my
lady organs until i was
seventeen.
when i was fifteen i gave over fifty blow jobs,
approximately over one hundred hand jobs
and received one to ten
fingerings.
the boy at the time could only say, “you’re so good,
you’re just so *******
****”.
with my uneasiness and black rimmed eyes i
said little. all i wanted to do was
please.

i was sitting with a friend and as her soberness vanished,
she told me a man had never gone down on her.
i looked at her with wide eyes and when asked why,
she said,
"it’s just too weird. i don’t trust any man down there."
yet she could deliver tongue thrusts and gags left and right.

when the first man kissed my other lips,
he said i tasted wonderful, delicious, i was the drink
he savored for.
and i remember in that moment that i wasn’t just a
"girl".
i had transformed into cleopatra.

i had a man say i tasted like chicken, and i was his
favorite meal. as his tongue flickered, i would ***
inside clouds. and i wondered why this was such a
hidden treasure.

i wish for all women to be kissed, on both sets of lips.
all women to experience tongues dancing within their
insides. i want thighs trembling like earthquakes,
moans erupting like untamed volcanoes.
i want all women to become cleopatra, joan of arc,
ophelia, marilyn.
i want all women to
become
celestial.

There is gold on the ceiling
Dripping down my forehead to my lips
It burns; it burns the way I think
The sun burns when it's 6 pm
And the city's skyline looks like a streak of fire

Blue wraps around my body like a pair of arms, stranger's arms
Making me shiver from the heat I can't feel
Cause my skin is made of dusty old newspapers
Yet my bones are made of steel

But there is gold on the ceiling
And it's so bright, it's so **** bright
Like a burst of hot light it blinds me
Searing the image of glittering dust into my brain
I can't remember

Red flows out of my mouth like a waterfall
My words sound like knives stuck in ribcages
My throat is filled with blood because it hurts to speak
It hurts even more to stop

But there is gold on the ceiling
Shining like every promise of "better"
It's shining and blinding and burning
Stabbing me again and again
With the force of it's glory

There is gold on the ceiling
But there is black on the walls
So I close my eyes tight
Cause dark is all I've ever known