You’re almost asleep and
I’m jealous of your sheets because
Nights like this I wish I could be them.

You’re in my poems.
In my head and in my heart but
You’re not in my arms and
The countdown could not go quick enough.

I wish there was a fast forward on this thing.

I am homesick,
But not for home.
There are places I have never been
And yet, I miss them terribly.
There’s a whole world that
I’ve never seen, but
My soul screams to experience and
I think that’s my cue.

One day, my feet will touch
Red sand and
Black beaches and
Mountain tops.
I will absorb oceans and hurricanes
And build myself so strong that
you can find the universe in my eyes.

Maybe then, I will
Find you.

You told me to watch that film,
But I spent more time searching for spaces
I’d kiss you in
Than seeing what was on screen.
Your lips are distracting and
I don’t even know what you
Taste like,
Yet.
I can only imagine.
There are times when my
Waist calls for hands and
The gaps will only accept your
Fingerprints.
How can you miss somebody
You’ve never met?
I wish I had the answer to
That question.
Maybe then I wouldn’t have this hole
In my chest.

I ask what your favourite word is.

You say you don’t have one, and
I don’t understand.

See. I’m a poet.

I tried hard not to be,
Rejected it with every
Fibre of who I am but
Words form in ways I can’t
Negate.

See,

You speak and I notice
There’s more in what you say than
You know.

Your voice is delicate,
Not in the way you sound words
But the way you phrase sentences,
Like the subject is something to be
hidden behind premises.
Some people grab chance by the throat,
****** you right into the center,
Until you’re drowning in meaning
And unable to listen to anything but the
Beat,
B-,
Beat,
Of your heart but

Not you.

I can respect that.

You’re all tact and logic and
It’s not about feeling
It’s about thought process and

I still don’t understand.

See, my tongue is clumsy,
It stutters and stumbles and smashes its way through life,

But it finds meaning where there isn’t any,
Notes how you say “Spoke”, not “talked”,
How you dance through every word in the English language because
Deciding on the right one
Has to be perfect.

I think that,
You are perfect.

My favourite word is puddle.

I don’t know why, but
When I say it, my tongue kicks
my teeth and
It reminds me of the way my
Consonants get heavier with
******* in my brain.
It makes language ridiculous,
Because the end of its vowel is so sudden
It should cut
But it’s so ******* round.

Puddle.

I can’t explain, not in words,
But I smile when you say it and
I promise you that sometimes
language is less about logic
And more about that feeling
in your gut
When you look
at me and verbs flow out of your mouth
And for once you’re not thinking
And, -

"I love you."

If you thought, it wouldn’t be true and -

"I love you."

Cogs whir to a halt and,

"I love you."

I don’t trust you for a second because
My mind is now skipping stones across oceans
Waiting for depth to show, yet
There’s nothing below,

but still,

Sail away with me.

Let’s leave language behind and use touch to define
The borders between where I start
And you stop.

We’ll find they’re less obvious than we’d thought,

Because I love you.

Not in the way that I say it but
In the way that your presence makes my stomach churn out musical notes
And I was broken, but I don’t want to seem desperate and
I guess that when you say you that don’t have a favourite
I realise,
Puddle’s a scapegoat.

My favourite word is whatever name you’d give for the
Goosebumps on your skin when I touch you.

My favourite word is the colour of your eyes.

My favourite word is the way your voice goes real high when you’re excited.

My favourite word is how I can feel where you touched my flesh, for days after we last met.

My favourite word

Is you

But I’m too shy to say it.

So here, take puddle,

And run away with it.

I say,
Tell me about the last person who
Made your voice catch in your throat.

I want to know them through you.

You say,
Tension peaked and you couldn't
Breathe.

I don't care that it wasn't me.

If I could find a hundred people, and
Bring each one home to
****** breath from your lungs,

I would do it every day.

The passion in your words is deep enough
For me to bathe in and
I want to soak for hours.

Tell me more.

When you talk of how your stomach twisted
Into celtic knots,
Your hands shake with recollection.

I am hungry.

You feed me romantic lines about
People I've never met, yet
I see their faces in your eyes.

You absorb everything.

Teach me what it's like to be
A butterfly in your gut
And a tremor in your fingertips.

Absorb me, too.

I curled inside myself,
Bit my tongue and
Forgot the lessons
They taught me, but
No more.
I have oceans beneath my flesh,
Roaring with the sounds of
Lost civilisation and
I could not be quiet if
You begged me.
Listen,
For I am Earth and Air
And holy Fire, sent to
Cleanse your violence
With something so fierce it
Burns.
I am alive,
And I am bigger than
Every load you ****** upon my back.
I shall not carry your burdens.
*I shall break them.

I want you to
Press your fingers so
Hard into my flesh that
I can feel you there
Weeks after you've left.
Let me hear you beg forgiveness
With your tongue, but not your
Voice,
Until all you can utter are
Groans;
You know, I
Had you all along.
Come,
Collapse into me;
We can connect our hips
And our minds until
Shudders subside and the
Morning steals soft kisses
With sleep.
Then  lips, smoothed raw with
Exertion,
Will no longer cry out for more,
Because we are,
Finally,
Whole.