Isis knows
the finger

going down
her bony

spine slowly,
belongs to

(without doubt)
her girlfriend

young Jodie.
The finger

moves between
the valley

of her ***,
circling

the soft fuzz,
hovering

just above,
predator

of deep love,
moistening

the fruit cup,
wet mouthing

the dark dugs,
tongue licking

the milk mounds,
ear to breast

hearing soft
the beat thump

of her heart
as her thighs

spread wide like
the Red Sea,

and the hushed
voice and sigh

like buzzing
of the wild
honey bee.

I am hungry i think as i lock eyes with you
i tap my feet hoping your questions will be enough to spring forth the rhythm of a vibrant relationship
ask me how
care about the whys

and you do care for me
protectively

but i am struggling stubbornly with wanting to tell you how to love me
and the stubborn belief that i shouldnt have to tell you how

and this is the new chapter called the firsts
and i want you to be curious bout me
and jealous when you know
i want to tell you
but dont you see
youve got to be the one to ask me.

Decide the course of the love therapy, you'd subject my body, soul and spirit,
my body is eaten by the poison weeds of passing moments, I am a dissolving island,
elate my spirit, still my mind, calm my body aches with love, the aura that ever surrounds you,
begin with your conquering lips, kiss me head to toe, let me drain in to you and sink in oblivion.

It's 7AM
     where you are
and where you are
         I am not.

So time
does not matter
because its passing brings you
no closer to me
                         (nor me to you)

All that matters is that
I am   here
and
you are       there
and I am
missing you
                           (again).

That golden color is no more valuable than a penny, fills each valley as its been for moments while there's nothing to hear out side of her ears other than mother natures breath. For now her discernment is a monster of despair that doesn't lay under her bed. She gazes at her joints while contemplating her lack of courage to remember that the tiger inside of her that lashes against all of the village will not be doing the same to her. The righteous act of stillness is what is motivation to put down what isn't really mine. The shiny pointed sculptures of paper that some know as a tool for creation named scissors, that need to cut inanimate objects, not my vessels containment for natural life. I let myself fill my cup with spirits that I don't drink, but bathe in.

Who am I again
Crawling through unexpected obstacles
Trying to escape the bitter reality
Living in the world of nostalgia and melancholy.

Will you stare at the mirror
See through someone you never want to know?
Will you stand over the decision
That you never thought you will win?

And again no one will listen
No one to share
I'm here praying to only You
I will handle myself with care.

Who speak about trust
When it's just a word lose over a lust
Who speak about love
When you know it's nothing like a story of two doves.

This is the reality
This is just a dream
And exist the *'You and I'
A final hope to try
When the right time comes by.

In my head
I imagine the future to be
Lipsticks lined on a marble counter
According to color and mood
And clothes warm from the dryer
Because they didn’t cool in the car
And heartbeats under bedsheets
Imported from Milan
Where no clothes are scattered
Because we always remember
To hang them, properly,
(The way we’re supposed to).
And in my head
You wear a sweater
And I brew tea
In an electric kettle
On a spotless counter
In a kitchen scrubbed clean
Except on the stove
Where a smudge of chocolate
Here and                             there
Reminds us of
The night before
And you see me clearly
With curious eyes
And I see you exactly as I did
When we first met
On our third date
When you asked me
If I would, please, finish your plate.
And I imagine the future
And I adore the order
The absence of terrifying smudges
Of chaos
Against a marble façade of
Rosy (or pink. or sparkle.) perfection.
I crave the
Nights spread over soft, warm sheets
That I call mine
And warm lips that wake me
Only when the sun is just right
So I see the mischievous sparkle
In your half-closed eyes
Before you tickle me awake.
And in my head
I long for this,
For the perfection of a
Practiced hand.
I want to build myself
Like my mind builds worlds
With one smooth stroke at a time.

But I do admit
As I lay in jersey sheets
That I do quite like
The way the soft lamplight
Falls over my cluttered bedspread
And how my books are stacked
One
Two
Three
Against my bookshelf
Rather than inside it
(The way it’s supposed to.)
And I am fond
Of the sheer lavender cloth
Thrown haphazardly on the lampshade
And tied with a purple cord
From a graduation I can’t clearly remember
And have every desire to completely forget.
And I will rise
On an overcast day
To the cold lips of sea air
On sheets made from
Recycled materials
And I will stand on aching bones and trod
With a limp and a frown
To the stovetop kettle
And I will brew tea
To the gentle hum of the fridge
That was here when I moved in
And I will be wearing
A robe with no cord
And a face with no grin
But I will look to the sky
And see the sun promised in the
Nebulous lining of the silver clouds above
And I will smile and
Stretch my arms
And see myself clearly
With selfish, curious eyes
Amid the ***** pots and pans and I
Will find peace
In chaos.

Stars, stars
they shine so bright
yet so bright in
the dimly-lit sky

Stars, stars
Ever heard of shooting stars?
Well, I think I saw one
And made a wish
And then I saw it go right down

Stars, stars
Thousands and thousands
Millions of millions
collected dust
are called
stars

Dust, dust
Oh whatever happened to your other name
Stars
Thou'st don't shine so brightly anymore
By cause of dead wishes
dead dead dead dust
Then why did thy,
the shooting star,
come right up,
I wished, I wished a little wish
And then you went right d
                                               o
                                                  w
                                                     n
Hopes fell right down
The same way you fell right down


Stars, stars
they shine so bright
yet so bright in
the dimly-lit sky

Are you sure you are shining bright in the sky?