people crave touches,

and i thought they were absolutely psychotic

until i met you.

suddenly, i understand,

but still not really

because the only touch i want from you

isn't a kiss or a caress.

it's the sting of your hand on top of mine

sitting on a pile of worn playing cards

(two jacks, to be exact)

making a resounding smack against the table

that startles the elderly couple next to us

and your firm, determined grip

as you swear bitterly under your breath

to wrestle those jacks away from me

however long it takes you.

--glacier

You've never really wanted to live
Until you've folded your arms
In their carefully pressed blazer sleeves
Until you've stood alone
Feet planted on artificial ground, unshakeable
Until you've scanned across the smoky city skyline
Through a floor-to-ceiling window dotted with rain
Until you've had your breath stolen
Not by the vertigo of the skyscraper's top floor
But by the sheer determination that this city--
It will be a kingdom again
And you, its ruler.

sometimes i wonder how you are
i dress myself in spy fatigues as i twist my mouth
you're laughing, bright. you bleed the aura of apollo and you are ensconced by fiery legs, moscato-stained lips, bejeweled smiles
nothing could yank your lyre from you
you expose rows of teeth as you coil and
you laugh. i see the hurt in your eyes in the seconds before you blink

i wonder if you've forgotten to rest them, just as i have
i wonder if that hair of yours is lovingly tussled
or usurped
under infinite gleanings of your own manic hands
when liquid barbiturate tears roll from your eyes and make house in your ears
when the darkness of your room softly suffocates you
and you pretend that it is me

i wonder if i've destroyed you and it
takes the opulence of an entire faerie festival to turn your racing head
to wrench your furrowed brow away from the
slight dip in the passenger seat
where i once occupied