secret rendezvous in a truck bed
gazing at the stars and at each other
watching and waiting
for whatever
pure and warm.
our fate has been decided and
we are doomed from the start but
every day with you is a new
adventure
mystery
spontaneous burst of life
just how they do it in the movies.

that day
nine months ago
when you held my hand
in the sand
and my dress blew
with your hair
and with the waves
is an echo now.
the echo is deafening
and rings in my ears
and in the back of my mind
and it keeps me
stuck on a fishing line
dangling dangerously,
delicately,
precariously,
above a raging fire
clinging to you.

1,116 miles separates your flesh from mine
but i still feel your warmth
in the palms of my hands
in the pit of my stomach
in the space between my legs.
cold nights remind me of the space between us
but i've never felt so close to someone.
i swear if i'm lucky
i dream of you,
like a ghost,
crawling in through my window
into my sheets -
lips crawling across my jaw and
fingers crawling up my thighs.

you told me it was nothing,
now youre sleeping in her bed.
you said i was the only one
now i dont exist in your head.
shes the best youve ever had
i was a warm, convenient place.
i poured all i had into you
and she quickly took my place.

alcohol poisoning in the parking lot
and cigarette ashes on the concrete.
you had burn holes in your tee shirt and
she had lipstick on her neck and
we ran around under purple lights;
our skin stained with artificial pigments.
you had sweat dripping down your face and
her nail polish was chipped.
a girl sat alone on a bench
and shook so furiously that she scolded her finger
while trying to light up her third consecutive cigarette
and a boy washed the blood from the corners of his mouth
with a half-full bottle of whiskey.
you had her all over your skin and
she had too much to drink.