in this thrifted sweater
and black and white floral skirt

in my soft and faded yellow
and on those pastel clouds
with my daydreaming eyes

i wanted a cheap ticket

you see,
i wanted a one way trip
to heaven
so i could stand protected
so i could stand behind
the holy gates,
bathing in gold light.
in my sweater,
wrapped in light
and safe.

little did i know i’d feel safer that day
that i’d taste some of heaven
in that sweater in late november
with your arm interlaced
in mine
like fate
had planned
for that to be
the moment our stars
aligned

you were a sunbeam
my sweater was security
and your arms beheld the stars
of the heavens
to me

and can i tell you something?
they were all
so
*yellow

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

he leans in to kiss you. his lips graze yours, a careful brush, so close but not close enough, as the two of you breathe the same air. his breath is warm, his body is warm, everything about him is so warm when you feel so cold. next to him you feel like ice. and his touch melts your cool skin, and you’re melting, melting, gone. you’re kissing him, your chapped lips on fire. your baby is the sun and yes, you know this is going burn eventually. it burns already anyway. but you’d burn into ashes for him. you’d fade for him until there was none of you left.

his gaze leaves nothing of you. you burn until you smolder every time he looks your way. he’s older than you, and it’s almost like he’s lived so many centuries before this one. and he calls you “my love” and “baby boy” and he makes you feel soft even when you’re sweat drenched, even when your skin tastes like the ocean.

you’re on fire, but it’s alright. / there’s pain in this desire, but nothing’s felt more right.

icarus, your baby is a fire.
no.
your baby is a thousand fires.
your baby is a thousand fires,
and each one is so beautiful,
that you don’t mind
how heated
things are getting.

this love is tragic, dear icarus.  and although you know it’s going to **** you, or maybe even because you know it’s going to **** you, you can’t stop loving him, and the heat radiating from his skin.

my god with bramble & lightning bugs
******* in his hair, he kneels with
brown earth palms pressed to the unquiet dirt
and hums a childhood melody.

my god with flowers on the riverbank,
ankles slick with mud & the dead things that lay just underneath. he whispers, how proud i am of you, how hard you tried, i hope you were full of love, i hope you loved, i hope you love —

my god with rosewater & candle wax,
watches me bless another girl with the softest kisses
a sinner can musterwipes my tears away with callouses
worn down gentle.

the light breaks.
there are no trumpets nor blood,
only his laugh lines beaming bronze in the sunlight.

you could shine through every darkness
on any given day
i knew that your eyes held the promise
that you'd never lead me astray
because of you i'm living the life that i wanted
that's something i never thought i'd say
and you are where i'll always find solace
i just hope that you can stay

and i know i'm no walk in the park
but i'll go anywhere in search of your heart
i won't ever stop gazing at the stars
but they're not as good as you at burning a hole through the dark

and you are a sunset on the horizon
so softly astounding and pure
and you've got sunlight in your eyes and
i've never wanted anything more
as much i want right now to be blinded
by those stars that i adore
and i have forever decided
to be the ocean to your shore

and i know i'm no victory march
but you have warmed my wintery heart
and if this is where our history starts
i hope we can be all that sky whispers we are

tell me that dreadful story about the mayflies
& that burnt-out summer
we spent in the shadows of oak trees, our shoulders
raw & peeling.

everything had that sick patina of
“i loved you” in the sunslick light, where it was always
half-past some forgotten appointment.
no sense of urgency; no sighs;

no breath but what you’d give me.

i think it went something like this:
we go back to the lake with the tall grass & then i pull all the words right out of your open mouth. you’re not in love with me yet, but maybe you never were.

the fisherman on the next dock catches three carp and then a fourth, but by this time we’re already gone & i don’t see him teasing the hook from between their lips; don’t hear the wet
gasp of their fat bodies hitting the water.

okay, so let’s hear it your way.
the sky was hazy & so was your mind; maybe the heat
was getting to you. everything was sore & dark yellow,
so maybe i can’t blame you for squeezing a little too hard.

i take you down to the lake with the fish bones & i say something like
“i love you”, or maybe i make you say it first.
point is, i’m looking at you like i’m pulling teeth & someone
somewhere is hurting;

so maybe i can’t blame you for everything after.

you take me back to your grandmother’s garden & feed me heirloom tomatoes rolled in sugar; i kiss you with a dripping red mouth. the mosquito bites & blisters don’t bother us just yet, but that doesn’t mean you don’t draw blood.

you ask where it hurts & i say: here, here, here; so
quick i can hardly think, everything all sticky-sweet & unbearable.
you call me a liar, & i tell you to take anything, anything
you ever could’ve wanted, if you'd only just let it be me.