she cared about you, you know.
there was a lot you didn't see.
•☾•
she stared at walls for hours when you left.
•☽•
and she put you in her song book.
you're every lyric on 50 ******* pages.
•

un.*
He smells of Hydrangea picked straight from Heaven's garden.
deux.
His lips letting the most fervently beautiful sound leave his body to reach me.
trois.
His eyes, containing the same pigment of my favorite chocolate, wash over me in those places he knows I want him to be.
quarte.
He moves closer in the most angelic way, pushes my hair back, kisses me ever so gently.
cinq.
this is what love feels like I'm thinking as he puts his palms against my back and we fall into each other like the lines on the painting we saw somewhere in Pennington.
six.
Unfathomable. That love I feel when he looks at me, hungry yet delicate. This could never get tiring.
sept.
I'm pushed against this wall and lifted onto his hips. Clothing seems to melt off of our infinite bodies so that we may fit entirely. Flesh meshed together. I can't tell where mine stops and his begins.
huit.
This is a fairy tail that never ends as our breathing becomes a pattern into each others mouths. Me in. Him out. We're our own song. Every stroke a beat. Every moan a voice. Every scratch a strum. We're beautiful.
neuf.
To the bed we go - never missing a beat. We're in sync and I couldn't love him more. More. Every stroke more. I'm on a cloud, the rest of the world no longer audible. He's panting.
Dix.
I love you.
**Fin

You're the Ballet en Pointe;
difficult yet graceful and magnificent.

You're winter; touching my roots
and removing the orange anger
hanging from the fragile tips of
my branches after autumn weather.

You're Easter; every secret I find
hidden in your life's bushes is an egg
left by that gracious holiday creature and
I'm triumphant and I love you more.

You're California; hot and fun.
Every corner. Every turn
something new to discover and
enjoy.

You're mine. Stay mine, baby.
*Forever.

You are beautiful.
Every part of you.
Even your impossible anger flourishing through those once soft sultry eyes.

I've seen silent pools of 'sorry' and 'let's forget about it's leave your tear ducts and fall onto me cheeks.
As lightweight as they are I feel them. So much more abounding with grief and true regret.

Your words had stung me before and like the boy in that movie where he kicked the nest-I was. Attacked before but now it's much worse.

The bee stings were no longer puncturing needles but silver knives in my wolverine body cutting deep in my organs, vital or not they live while my howling soul dies in unforgiving puddles of shedding fur made of crushed promises- you will never hurt me.

It's what you said and yet those wrists-tight with anger in your veins-those palms. Engulfed with the flame of the hostility you dry swallowed unwillingly along with those pink pills now coursing through your nerves.

On my bare skin those fingertips- once gently kissing my broken woman hood the same finger tips that threaded shards of broken glass together as hard as it may sound you made it happen and now threading needles turn to swords breaking thread and laying down the shear, intense, excruciating hate and I know.

I know that the holes in your heart were filled by the smell of this garden you've managed after planting in this body after others took the sunlight and poisoned the rain and drenched them with laborious despondent trickles becoming tsunamis in this heart of mine.

In this very minute I thought I was important. Like a vital *****. But how could I be so crucial to you when you made me feel so minuscule but I stay maybe not close but always.

For now let me bleed out this strenuous hate so that I can come back stronger.

Get rid of those demons you hold so dearly in your head- jealousy, being your best companion, should not be your best man at our wedding in fireflies and heartstrings of matrimony - keep me safe. Safe from your demons.

And keep me safe, then and only then, may you keep
me.