something shattered
and something born.

something unfurling.
or something torn.

something crescendoed,
then something stilled.

something hollowed
and something filled.

i looked Love
straight in the eye.

Love looked right
over my shoulder.

takes courage
to recognise a lie.

takes a lie to keep
you growing bolder.

shoulder to shoulder.
you always sit close, camouflaged

bare skin emboldened
by white cotton

shirt sleeves. yes I feel your heat
right down to the elbow.

winch it all forward:
my eyes chin hips

knees feet, my hands
yet every edge tilts right

does anybody notice this
delicate heeling? to you. do you?

how much is in balance.
without moving, my lips

rehearse all the things
people say to each other

too many black suitcases
in this world.

mine gapes,
guts spilling, insolent in an otherwise
check out ready room (bed abandoned,
two coffee mugs dripping
dry).

"so you'll just zip this life
closed..." it leers,
haemorrhaging treasures
gently offered, and *****
laundry, "...will you?"

this page, this pencil, will not
fit; must I leave you, too, behind?

my lips are torn to shreds
from trying not to let the
long overdue “I love you”
escape. the taste of blood
between my teeth reminds me

I’ll never know your mouth
as anything more than
my favorite work of art,
and you'll only ever know me
under the ancient tongue of
what we could’ve been

I trace the freckles on your skin into maps of places I'm dying to explore
And today I finally understood the feeling of hunger and depth and passion as our bodies searched desperately for intimacy in one another.
But what we found was so much more,
as today I learned the feeling of not flinching at the thought of being touched.
And feeling the way your hands danced across the contour of my body, I finally felt like art.
And the moans that passed my lips is the music that we make
And I never want to stop singing for you.