i love that moment
when a song inhibits reality,
and for a second,
(or a minute,
and very possibly maybe four),
even though you are here, right now,
you're also very gone.

and for that second,
a tsunami of feelings,
thoughts, and memories,
suffocate your heart in a seemingly endless chokehold.

and life comes back,
like a blunt slap to the face,
and you continue to walk,
but with nostalgia by your side.

how do you politely tell someone that you cannot love them
because three years, one month, and eight days ago a boy stole your soul.
and how do you explain that you will always love him more than the rest
and that he lives in your bones
and right this second he flows through your vains
and waits on your lips
and settles like dust on your heart.
how do you explain that your body is a galaxy and he is the stars
and you will love him until the constellations burn out.

I ***** apologies faster than the word **** can escape your lips after you stub your toes on the concrete ground / I jump to conclusions, or excuses, or explanations, or whatever, almost as quickly as you can sputter out your endless pathetic promises during those stupid walks on the beach / I can shut myself down emotionally in about as much time as it takes you to say that we're "just friends" after I throw my raw, pulsing heart onto the same **** cutting board we used to make sushi when I asked you if you liked me.

I don't hate you because you broke my heart not once, but twice, but because you lie straight to my face and tell me you don't get butterflies when we kiss at 3am too.

I don't feel safe
inside anybody's arms
even mine, even my own
because I know that they'll let me
go when I'm hanging by their grip
and I know
I cannot trust myself
that I won't do the
*same

carved on walls
where fires burned
-indelibly etched-
the hunt and dance
our story

flint to moss
sparks ancient art-
tinder for desire

tendered flame
has seen us
***** unclothed-
an ivory venus
burned into my bones-

making fire

r ~ 9/3/14

The rouge from your supple lips
decorate my face still.

It's warmth radiates from
my cheek as ignited senses
beg for more.

The gentle red contours tingle
through my flesh as it etches
it's imprint onto my very soul.

You've conquered me with one gentle blow.
My only purpose for continued breath,
is to be kissed by you once more.

~~~

Yesterday was,
today is,
tomorrow has yet
to be.

Time itself;
a unit of measurement
for our own failing bodies.

Counting machines
with hands and faces;
"tick-tock" insist the clocks.

Smiling on me
from atop the wall,
numbers serve as chopping blocks.