all you want are pretty girls
with painted lips and bright eyes.
girls with soft voices and
soft hands and soft hearts.
girls with their necks on yours
and hips on yours
and lips on yours.

girls one in a million,
but a dime a dozen.

The thick curl of a heavy
blue foamy reflective in the sun
crash on me

pull me under
currents of salt and water
push me into the sandy bottom

scrape my back
not like my knees of childhood
the beach is my new driveway

crispy hair as it dries salt
deposits white and pungent
fingers run rough through
tousled and tangled strands

Or me, or
son. Or brother
from another Mother
or Father

or
God

or any other
to love or adore.
Or dream
Or wake up

or
Will

or force
yourself to.
Organized religion
or Catholics who pray

or
You

or those
who do not.
******* or ecstasy.
Or abandon

or
Forsake

or forgive
those who deceive.
Or strange suitors
or the jilted

or
Me

or I
or the original sin,
the temptation,
or Godless orphan.

Hey you,

the one i like,

you’ve got a pretty soul.

Tell me,

is love only something that

pretty people

can produce?

I am

a poet

my soul

eager to the sky.

If I

tell how

I could rip myself open

and let the creatures fly out of my chest

be they eagles

be they Locusts

the meaning

will die.

As He said,

” thought once spoken

is untrue”

let me be silent

not speak at all

but explain myself

with kisses

on your

perfect skin.

or Redheads.
Crimson Irish curls
that cling to curves
like my lips cling to
your name.
Natural.

I feel like every moment i've spent has led me to you.
and maybe
that's crazy.

Crazy.
Like I felt about you.
A little insane about how quickly it took me to smile whenever I thought about you.
Or a little mad about how much I thought about you even after we said goodbye
Crazy. Like the moment when I had to walk out on you.

You said 'I'll just stay here awhile'
And I took your empty cup
threw it away
smiled a confident smile (I was lying)
And walked out.

At the time it seemed like there was no choice.
There was.
Of course.

Just not right now.

Picture white sheets
Your hand running up my back
my skin against yours
As I undo each button with determination
My hair caught between our lips.

Nothing gets me quite like
the soft echoing of your breath against my jaw
(And mine on yours)
Your soft cheek close to mine
As your heart begins to beat quickly.

Each movement of your body
Drastic or minimal
Is a shock
Yet the transition
Is no distraction from my nails digging into your skin.

And if I could I'd wrap you in forever
And see how long you'd be content
In my arms
In my mind
In my heart.

We're racing with no destination
Growing warmer as time lapses
And it's all a dream I'm sure
A recurring sensation.