Sunlight, that insipid *****,
spills herself all over my desk in an open invitation.
I want nothing more than to run outside, rip off my clothes
and let her ravish me.
My open book,
ever the nagging wife,
looks at me in reproach.
"This was meant to be our day"
"you promised we's spend some time together".
That nagging shrew: I think I hate her.
I want to tell her that she bores me,
that the years have left her lusterless and lined,
full of nothing but dull words
and a dusty smell.

Your secrets were always safe with me//Wasn't my fault people were smarter than you stupidly thought they'd be//Would it have been better, more clever, if they believed you were a werewolf?//However, you did have the claws that shot out and grabbed me//I'd never lay a hand on you how you would land on me//I could see it when you wore your fangs and raised your fist up to harm me//Werewolf//Instead you got in my face and twist my wrists//So close we could of kissed should of kissed but you were ****** that I wanted to coexist..
Your growling was a turn on but you were ******* me while scowling//Because how dare I please tease and ******* hourly then beg you for one pounding//Yeah, ******* is the best and you were ******* with the best but your kind of ******* was so ******* messed//And you made me feel like a used **** test.//Red wild eyes going to sleep and waking up//Had to have the green since you were just a little wolf pup//They ask you if you want another bowl-full you turn and bark YupYup.
And just so we can recap//You weren't always a monster//You were a gentleman when I first met you//For two months then I saw the real monster in you//You had me in your trap and then I saw that you were turning//You began to snap and then you were cracking and squirming//I found it disturbing//But I held on for months hoping that around you'd be turning.
But you only came back around when you were howling homeless like a stray//You cheated on me with her//Tried to kick me out to keep her//They ALL said that you'd been with HER//But your hustle couldn't make a ***** stay//She learned you always blew your pay//On the drugs and on the Obey//Discovered your secret then didn't give you the time of day//So she scampered off back to her ex//Lone wolf//But I took you back in//You saw I was less than thin//Like Hell you cared, you were wearing monster skin//You're a cold-hearted werewolf//With a sharp ****** grin.
I can name the one time when you came to my rescue//You were ******* with them other sheep and I was under their fescue//I don't know why you bothered to yank me up from the muck when at the end you took my head and smacked it down til it stuck//Got back up and had those sheep cooked for supper//Now they're on my side, in my insides//Now they're gone, I'm gone, and no one's left to hear you mutter//Your secrets were always safe with me//But now you are just a lone wolf.

RKT

The two of us in a bed with sheets pulled taut as a sore throat. My underwear
was wet with your spit. We woke up everyday, early, to climb to the tops
of cliffs and scream, “THIS IS AMERICA!”

These are our highways, this is our weather, this our honor.

Our whole world was wet and shivery as a cool dream.
Your chest was covered in goosebumps, your chest was tight, your chest
was chattering. Every night I kissed your teeth with my sticky
and gummy tongue. We made love, once, atop a wooden dining room table
that lacked a tablecloth. It was the hottest day in August -- the 21st --
and we’d forgotten to go skinny dipping, but still we were stripped naked,
like newborns, or parents. Your back was arched like a boring joke.

Afterwards, we drank coke from silver cans. Still, us, on a porch, still:
“THIS IS AMERICA!” We often pretended that our house looked out
onto an ocean. We missed the waves, what they did with our bodies.
If I could have I would have stood in a field of wheat with you, mountains all long
and curved and ripened behind us. I never had the dream that I told you I’d have:
the one in which my nails claw at your face just because your face looks haunted,
like hunting grounds. I’d had the dream about every other boyfriend. It is no
longer summer, but I will have it anyway, and the next morning I will
wake up to a ****-soaked bed, sheets cooled without a fan.

I'd live in your ribbed cage
if
   you'd
       let
           me

If I were an artist
I’d draw my way to heaven
Or rather paint myself into your presence
after all they are one and the same
I would craft a sculpture of you
And as much as I'd want the world to see
I’m would to keep it in my heart just for me
water colors to express the gentleness in your eyes
pastels to bring out the fullness of your lips
charcoal to show the depth of your dimples when you smile
If I were an artist I would try to recreate you everyday knowing what the final products will never do you justice
your smile is so illustrious it has gold accents on it
the copper tone of your skin is the perfect hue
If I were an artist I would create these things to resemble you but I’m not so I paint this picture instead

Love is...
staying awake with her those extra 30 minutes to keep her company.
Buying her flowers on more than just valentines day.
Being there for each other.
Knowing that despite differences, in the end it doesn't change your relationship.
Remembering fondly first dates, and goofy moments.
Laughing together till it hurts to laugh anymore.
Not wanting to fall asleep, in fear you will miss out on each other.
All-nighters over the phone.
Smiling at the thought of your other half.