Do you have stars in your mouth
she asks
And I laugh,
She's never tasted
Winter like I have
Midnights that linger
For days. Yes,
I tell her come see

Will there be breath
For a while, I whisper
And blow on her hands
But you will sing
And the aurora lights
Will walk across the ice

She lets me
Put my hands on her
Will I die? Her hair
Like snow
Yes. I tell her
Every time

Listening to a song for the very first time,
and holding hands with someone new;
scribbling messy handwritten notes in your favorite book,
and hearing the words,
"You are not alone."

The feeling they bring is fleeting,
I know,
but it is one you are capable
of experiencing none the less.

-k.w//little things

You could call it as hopeless
But look around, you could see
Brightness in behaft of mildness

You are beautiful as a stars at night
Your wonderful like the full moon you see
Even i could tell your deserving to be glory

Now tell me if there's still
Demon around you
Im here to be your Guardian Angel
I'll be your shield until my last breath.

It rained the whole of last night, dearest.
The banyan tree beyond my window
swished and swayed in the storm.

How bleak the wet luminance of my wait!
No streetlamp blinked
on the riddle of your returning trail
over the desolate stretches of the night.

My eyes stood sentinel,
the whole night, dearest,
for the faraway flicker of your torch
hurrying home...
Only fireflies wheeled lost and hopeless in the gale.

And there was lightning too, dearest—
white stallions carting the chariot of faceless shadows
down the valley of my gloom. 
My-heart-leapt-at-each-thunderclap...
Did I hear,
muffled in its rumble,
your fumble at the gate,
knock at the door?

My room smells of smoke and cologne.
You seem nice,
your eyes are lovely. My inner thighs
are peppered in bruises,
my legs hurt, my cheeks are flushed still.

It’s sweet to look at the milk skin, the ink blots,
remember I’m real. Remember
the feeling of being wanted,
your weight on me, the sweet nothings,
the drunken kissing, the moaning.

I want to hold on to you, but I’m
sure I’d be fine without you.  My ex
had a baby, I wasn’t angry.
I wished him luck; it’s a girl.
A new main lady.

I drank something crazy, I lost my cigarettes,
brought you home and we went to bed.
I wonder could this ever be anything really;
could I ever look into your eyes
and say I love the bones of you?