I’ve waited so long to talk to you.
I’ve messaged you and have waited
to hear back from you.
I am still waiting.
At this point, time isn’t a factor.
Even if I never hear anything,
I still will wait.

The closest I get to you now
is an algorithm.
Social media suggests you
as a new friend.
As much as I would love that—
to start over and pretend,
as painful as it sounds,
to love you in restriction,
trapped by some border,
like we’re strangers.

I stare at your picture and never
swipe the notification away.
In a way, it feels like old times.
The only thing missing is your voice.
You’re with me when I go to work,
you’re with me when I am in the car.
But nothing lasts forever.
By the time I wake up,
the notification is gone,
the screen is empty,
and you’re gone.

But your eyes—
the way that you smile—
have not left my memory.

I suppose I should be satisfied
with what I have now.
I’ve tried,
but I am not

When I am around you,
I feel heavy.
Everything that normally bothers me
isn't a concern anymore.
Not that it's not there,
it just softens
a whole lot.
In fact, everything softens
when I am around you.

In time, even blankets can warm
the coldest of beds,
and that's what you are to me;
a blanket so thick,
you just fall into it and sink,
You drape across me.
Your breath filling the air of my ears,
warm, soft
one of the best blankets I've been
wrapped up in my whole life.

After a few minutes, I am asleep
inside you.
My bones, my worries,
everything fades away.
Your warmth, my everything

There are many clothes in the world
that you can try on today
be it designer brand name or not,
that can fit on a clothing rack.
Just because something is made
doesn’t mean that you must fit it,
or the expectation of wearing it.

Not everything is going to fit.
Not everything is going to be your size,
including emotions.

Nothing good comes from waiting
for someone else’s approval.
If someone sees you,
let them see you for the remarkable
beauty that you are.


No matter if you mix and match,
or if you have on the full set.
Even if you see someone wearing
their emotions, and it’s the type of person
you want to be,
there is nothing wrong with trying something on.
But don’t get mad if it doesn’t fit.
It may not be the right time for you right now.

There is power in letting go.
There is also power in walking away.
There is no need to pretend that you’re less than
trying to keep up with a trend.
There is a lot of power in letting go,
and finding all the beautiful things
that you were meant to be

She unravels herself like a rose  
In the palm of my hand.  
Some of her petals break off  
And lay to the side
The pain of growth,  
Making room for something new.  

She looks me in the eye,  
The tension of letting go  
Of reasonable fear.  
Too many lonely nights.  
The crescent moon of every lie  
Hovers over her head.  

Piece by piece,  
She's laid that insecurity in my hands,  
That uncertainty in her eyes,  
Slowly turning into trust.  
Seeing that I didn’t discard  
The pieces of her that flaked off,  
In my hands.  
Regardless of how bad they look,  
They are a part of her.  

She twists and she turns,  
Her thorns piercing my skin,  
One after another.  
With confidence, I don’t have to tell her  
That I am not afraid.  
But I do so anyway.  

The crescent moon that hangs  
Above her head fills out  
And becomes full.  
As comfortable as she seems,  
Fear still lingers.  
No matter how much she  
Lets go,  
She's been let down before.  

In time, my hands will become  
A vase that will protect her from harm,  
And my heart a place  
That will warm her always.  
When the day comes she knows,  
With certainty, that I am not afraid,  
I will still tell her
I am not afraid

There’s a girl I know on Mars
Who wears tube socks
With everything she wears,
No matter if they’re stretched out or not.
There, the wind barely blows,
It barely even whistles.
But she doesn’t like her feet
To get cold.

Every time we talk,
We talk about everything
And nothing.
She sits at home and watches
The stars from her window,
Swinging one of her legs
From the arm of the couch.

I told her that I’d mail her a new
Pair of socks if I could find
A pair with Mars on them,
And a pair that had the moon
Printed on them.
Especially that far out, I bet they’re
Hard to find.

Maybe I’d settle for a pair myself,
To see what she sees in these things,
After all, she always wears them.
Maybe I’ll get her a pair that stretches
To her knees,
A solid color to match her couch,
To hide the red dirt that creeps
In her house.

After all, we’re human.
We need something that connects us
To who we are, who we used to be.
Anything to make us feel
More important than what we are

The ground shook beneath us,
Running beside the horse in her heart.
My feet, her hooves pressed deep
In her orifice.
Panting, our arms free in the wind,
Her eyes wild to those who try to tame her.
My stomach burns from the ache
Of trying to keep up.
I haven’t run this long or this hard
Since I was little.
No matter what I did,
She was always in front of me.
If I laughed, she’d neigh and bite the air.
Even if I was able to pass her,
It wasn’t long before she got back
In front of me.
Every part of me hurts, but all I can do
Is laugh, trying to keep up.
After a while, I fell out,
Sprawled out, catching my breath.
Soon, she walked over and laid down beside me
And licked my face.

Life’s too short to worry about
The bruises that travel up your legs.
It’s rare that you meet people
Who make you burn like this
The kind of love that pounds
And gallops.
She had a horse in her heart,
Wild and made of fire.
She didn’t want to escape,
Just needed a friend

I don't like the crumbs,  
But I eat them anyway.  
I eat them like they're whole,  
As they are the best part to me.
They are always there.
Like a man who's instead  
Learned to fish
There's more
to be had,  
Saving the rest for later.

I take slow, small, deliberate
bites,  
Like a goldfish,  
Mostly inhaling water,  
Saving the bigger pieces
for you.

Although they're all mine,  
They taste better, knowing  
That I've shared them with you.  
No matter how far these crumbs  
Drift apart,  
Whether you eat them fast  
Or you eat them slow,  
There will always be something left  
To swim around
in your stomach.

I am afraid to close my eyes  
And miss the moment you  
Savor it all.  
I could tell you that I've saved  
The best part
for you,  
Knowing that it's all I have to give.  
My hands are only so big

Like an old lover,
I press my lips on the mouthpiece,
And I blow.
I blow until my lungs are about give out.
I blow until the beads of stardust twinkle.
The air tastes like rust.
Still, I play.
I may not have learned all the notes
On this blue saxophone,
But still, I play what sounds good to me.
The air rolls over me like a dream
One I didn’t have the good sense to
stay asleep and finish.

The red dust longs
For thicker air,
Burning with everything that it knows
The taste of its name,
The hunger of its touch,
The pull of something stronger
Than us both.
If silence comes from a mouth,
It is still felt, regardless of whether
It has arms.
Mars, a girl that history got wrong,
wisps through the red dust.
Whether I stay here on Mars,
Return to Earth, or go somewhere different,
You never forget the way breath
Feels against your skin.
Never.

I continue to press my lips on
The mouthpiece,
I blow until my lungs are about give out.
I play what sounds good to me,
Whether it’s old or new.
Love is still love,
No matter how cold it gets

Most things you read are dedicated  
To the bride or wife to be,  
With everyone and everything
else included,  
But I wanted to do something different.  
After all, you're a part of this too.  

To my almost sister-in-law,  
How fun it would have been  
To see you and your sister  
In the dresses you've always dreamed of wearing, all of us side by side.
Feeding a child, a continuation of
Building the life of your dreams.  
Not to say that you won’t,  
I just won’t be included in the affair.  
That’s fine, just know I think of you both.  

If I had my way,  
I’d marry your sister and have you  
As my sister too.
Someone strong, someone real.  
If not for you,  
I wouldn’t have these fond memories  
Of you and your sister,  
Starting at the first night
Where you called my name  
And thought I was nice enough  
To introduce us, me and your sister.

We’ve always agreed on things,  
Not seeing things like most do,  
The same old, same old.  
If you’re somewhere,  
Just taking up space,  
Know this is for you  
And all the future sisters-in-law.  
Not to steal the shine  
From the bride to be,  
But imagining her at the altar,  
With you at her side as maid of honor,  
Would've been dope to see.  

If you see this,  
You both are still part of my life,  
And I, hopefully, a part of yours.  
I sit idle,  
Taking up space,  
Thinking of you both,  
Writing something for sisters  
And soon to be sister in laws
To read as a toast,  
Then smile at the bride.
If they can't think of something
silly to say.
If by chance you come across this
And that is the case.
Here is something to toast to

The chef holds the knife in the air for a brief second,
Then brings it down, slicing through the food.
We feel the heat from the grill splash our face,
a mix of grease sizzles from the flames.
This wasn’t a bad place to get out of the house.
I’m glad that we chose to come here.

Not being funny when I say this,
but there’s something about the way you eat.
Hunger is hunger, but you’re pretty
the way you hold your fork to your mouth,
the way your cheeks move up and down.

If the conspiracy theorists are right
and the world ends in the next few minutes,
you’ll have savored the last taste of my air,
the last taste of this place,
the last taste of this neighborhood.

If I were to tell you how I feel in this moment,
you’d swear I was trying to talk about you.
But it’s more than that.
I love the way your eyes are satisfied with what’s in front of you
and how soft they become.

The chef chops and sizzles the rice, onions, shrimp, and steak.
The oil and sauces bubble up on the grill,
mixing into the smoke, the grill hissing,
watching us feed ourselves one bite at a time.

Public decency is a thing,
though a kiss is the only thing I must settle for.
I want to rise from you like the steam rises from the grill,
the salt of your skin melting on my tongue
as soon as it touches.

It’s comforting watching you eat,
the way the sauce that marinated the shrimp
smears against your lips,
the way you lick it off
like nothing’s happened.

The chef throws more food on the grill
and clangs his spatula.
We’re far from full,
and I’m glad that of all places,
we decided to come here.

The air is filled with savory smells,
and still, I smell your perfume.
I catch you staring at me,
but it’s not just any stare
I love it, the way you look at me.

Whatever piece of you still hungers
bites off pieces of me every time you blink.
To think of your stomach as my final resting place,
your lips drenched in soy sauce.
If you could devour me whole, I bet that you would.

After all, our feelings,
this way we feel about each other,
are as raw as the meat and veggies
the hibachi chef throws on the grill,
and the way you smile,
and the way you wiggle and dance in your seat.

I want to be one of the things that satisfies you like that
the way you smile, the way you look at me,
making me feel just that.
Not just exposed,
but taming your hunger in complete satisfaction.

My heart beats and clangs
like the spatula in front of us.
There’s no sense in hiding what we feel,
soon the hunger will become too much.
The smoke from the grill intensifies this feeling tenfold.

Regardless of the lights, the other couples,
the rice or the steak,
you're not food.
No matter how bad I want to wrap my lips around you.
When the check comes, there’s no point in looking at it with question.
We’re both satisfied

I flip the pancake over like  
you've flipped my love for you.  
The skillet hot with butter  
and a splash of oil.  
The batter becomes thick,  
flattening on one side
raising before falling.  
The edges becoming crisp,  
a mix of heart and soul  
and all the simple, consistent
consideration in between.  

When I am alone, I can make  
the perfect pancake.  
But when someone is watching,  
I flip the batter too soon.  
The circle is broken, and the batter  
bakes unevenly on the skillet.  
It still doesn't take away from the taste.  
Sometimes, I still feel like a fool.  

All it takes is the heat of reciprocation
whether the spatula is cheap or  
expensive.  
I eat it anyway,  
just like you've flipped my love for you.  
I brought a better spatula.  
I'll drizzle you in butter and syrup,
and eat until I can't anymore.

You're still on my mind
the way you taste, and the way  
you make me feel.  
The world moves fast,  
and soon, the time will be here again.  
Instead of a turkey,  
you've carved pieces of my heart  
and reminded me of all the things I've forgotten.  
The aches and pains that have taken  
over the empty spaces between  
the hands on the clock
work, bills,  
pieces of my most intimate self  
I've traded to sustain a living.  

You've carved these pieces of my heart,  
as savory as they can be,  
and fed them to me,  
showing me that the world isn't  
that miserable
regardless of the fake smiles in a  
fast-moving world.  
My favorite time of the year comes  
quicker, followed by my favorite  
season.  
Thank you for showing up,  
and allowing us to feast on the parts  
of ourselves we always seem to forget.  
Next year, this time will come around  
faster.  
Until then, I'll savor the way you taste  
and how good it feels to be around you

You're beside me,  
And everything is fine.  
It doesn't really matter  
What we do outside of this.  

I ask what you want to watch,  
Scrolling through my DVDs.  
You smile and point,  
Even if it's something I don't want  
To watch. I watch because it's an extension  
Of you.  

Knowing me, I'll pick something  
Stupid that'll make us laugh.  
When the screen flickers,  
You light up.  
We laugh and we talk,  
Catching everything that makes  
It interesting.  

Most of the time,  
I only laugh because you're laughing.  
You really don't know how beautiful  
Your smile is.  
Even when the movie is over,  
The taste of your lips  
Makes it worthwhile.  
Just this, being with you.  
It's not about the movie at all.  
The DVD may spin,  
The world may swirl around,  
But beside you, time stands still.

My bones ache from all  
the cleaning I've done.  
I've cleaned up all the dust  
and finally hit the floorboards that  
I always tell myself that I’m going to clean.  
The patches in my life that always seem to be going right, until I look closer.

I've picked up and sorted through  
all the clothes I've let pile up  
on the couch.  
The clothes that have waited  
for someone to come in and take  
the place of.  
I've cleaned between the cracks  
of the tiles in the kitchen  
and scrubbed down the walls  
Of my heart.  
Although I am tired, I still keep going.  
I haven't felt  
this way in a long time.  
I feel alive,  
making room in my heart for someone new.  

I've gotten rid of  
all the things that I thought  
held meaning in my life.  
The ghost of the person I thought  
I was, now in the trash.  
I hear him screaming,  
waving his hands around, asking hey what happened.
I am making room for you in my heart
with every intention  
of hoping that you'll stay.  
Or at the very least, leave a part of you  
With me.  
I've cleaned between the cracks  
of the tiles in the kitchen  
and scrubbed down all the walls,
Even the parts behind the furniture.

I am ready, whenever you are  
comfortable enough to move in.
I'll even help unpack

I sip you slow
morning, noon, and night.
Sugar and creamer take away
from how sharp you sting my lips.

The way I am easily lost in you.
You settle me, keeping me alert,
even in the moments
I’d rather do other things
or when I’m too lazy to get up.
Regardless of where I am,
you taste like home.
My throat and body
stained in your brand.

Even when I’ve had my fill,
when I see you, I am thirsty.
I hope you understand
that you’re not made for anyone’s
approval, not even mine.
You’re rough around the edges,
even bitter at times,
but these are reasons I love you more.
You’re completely yourself.
Their faces are too neat
for you anyway.

When I taste you,
I realize this is real,
and that this is mine.
When I taste you,
I taste you like you were brewed
just for me

It's crazy how someone
Can come into your life
And crack you open,
Like an egg on the edge
Of the counter.
Everything that you thought was
Perfect,
Leaking out from the edges
Of what you knew.

You find out how much of yourself
Spreads out and fills the empty space
What you felt, what you feel.
The pain of change.
They love you fully,
Even the shell of who you were
Before they came in.
They whisk you around
And show you how beautiful life
Can truly be.
Their love, the salt and pepper,
Sprinkled across the fried edges
Of your soul.

It's crazy how someone can come
Into your life,
And you lie helpless on the skillet
Of their heart.
The most important thing to remember
Are the memories.
Loving them with everything you gave

Nothing fits right anymore,
like trying to walk in shoes three sizes too small.
I feel each step, my toes crumbled up,
crunched in the toe,
I walk crooked, trying to find any bit of relief.
But it’s never enough.
Tight in the places that matter most,
pinched and cramped, like the space you left behind.
The more I try to follow,
the more I feel like I'm in the wrong.

When I take them off,
I feel the ache of crooked blisters.
Red and bruised heels,
But I cannot walk around without shoes.
I understand that you can’t make everything in life work,
but that doesn’t stop me from trying.
These shoes drag the weight of good intentions,
and I trip over everything.

I’ve been to different stores,
but the shoes they offer fit too loose.
I try to walk, but the shoes don’t bend.
A normal five minute walk
expands into hours.
Too wide to make a complete trip
Without pain,
nothing fits right anymore
outgrown, worn, too tight.
Everyone points and laughs at a man
With shoes three sizes too small.
Who am I to chase

The weight of who I am without you sets in.
I am lost in a world without you.
All I have are these shoes that I cannot fill
without you

I brought a ticket to come and see you
Today. When I looked at the print,
I realized that it was a one-way,
With a layover in your thoughts.
Truth be told, I didn’t mind at all.
The tickets for all the other flights
Were weeks, even months out,
I paid more because I really wanted
to get there.
The ticket being nonrefundable
Made the trip that much enjoyable
Despite popular belief.
I didn’t go too much on the reviews.
Very rarely do you see one that tells
The entire truth, there is always something
Wrong. Whether it’s the seat, someone telling you
don’t drink the water, or the towels.
It’s always the towels or the sheets, for some
Odd reason.
I don’t mind a bit of turbulence.
When I got on the plane, I noticed that it wasn’t
as clean as I expected,
But it was cool. It wasn’t something
To just get upset and cancel the whole trip over.
Judging by the reviews, it’s easy to forget
That were all human. Sometimes things happen.
I leaned back in my seat and remembered that I had
Forgotten something.
I unclicked my seat belt and checked my pockets.
Nothing.
Although I am sure that I’ll arrive safely,
I’ll replace the kiss that you gave me
The last time I saw you, soon as I step off
The plane with a new one from you

Although ugly,
Something beautiful happens.
The air suddenly gets thick.
Your hand ***** up and flies
up to your mouth.
Lungs ache, just as we do.
They cling to breath as if
It's the last thing they have.
I cough, and my whole body heaves.
Just like you when I am behind you
My eyes tighten, and after a moment,
It's over.

A wet kiss turned inside out,
Bottled up and forced out.
An act of surrender,
Forced out in urgency.
A noise that signals sickness,
But at the same time
Searches for a fresh breath.
At times, a cough can be sickening,
Sometimes nasty.
But when everything rattles loose,
And that ache is gone.
Sometimes,
That's the best kind of love

The heart is a fragile thing,  
Only able to hold so much.  
Like a ship  
Sailing through a storm.  
Some make it through.  
Others, water fills the hull.  
  
Wave after wave,  
Try as you might.
You must stay afloat
The best way you can.  
No matter how many patches,  
Water still leaks in.  
Just like a heart,  
Pumping, but weighed down.
You must keep going.  
Take the proper precautions,
Jump overboard,
Swim if you must,  
No matter how many lies  
Have poked and prodded  
At your heart.  
No matter how many holes  
Have pierced your soul.  
Don’t drown.  
As long as you keep kicking,  
The sun will always shine.
Not all beautiful locations are
charted on a map

I press the buttons in a frenzy,
Lost in the glow of the TV screen.
The controller sweaty in my hand.
I tap away, making my way
Back to you.

To be honest, I didn't think
I'd like this game.
But now, I am hooked.
As dope as this game is,
It cheats.

You're a cheater! But I love it.
I don't need a tutorial,
and refuse to play through it.
I will make it back to you,
And beat you!

You, standing there with your ****
Avatar.
A quick reset, and I respawn,
Ready to get you!
Soon as the loading screen finishes
Loading. The only thing keeping me away from you, is how you cheat.
My avatar respawns,
Halfway through the level,
And there you are,
Waiting,
Like you have something better to do.
I will not rage quit!
I will beat this stage!
No one taught me how to play,
But once I win,
I'll have something to hold
over your head.
Even better
I didn't cheat to get your heart

I met you where night hangs like a prayer, and the planets spin around and around. In a world with no gravity, you pulled me in, right beside the stars that die in silence. Here, everything freezes.
And your eyes are the most beautiful thing to look at. In the deepest of dark, our hearts dance on dust and ice. Here, the wind howls, and chips of ice blow in the wind, swallowed whole by the emptiness around. Between the dying stars, we searched for a spark. A solemn flame that would keep us alive. The air here is dangerously thin, but this flame would still survive. A saving grace, ions away from home, crash-landing here wasn't so bad in the end. Far away from everything that we know, better here than a place we've never heard of. Though the ground beneath us will hold us forever, I've found this solemn spark, one that I'll remember forever. Although the stars around are too tired to shine, like them, we too, fight to burn. Two bodies lost in the dark

The last time I dreamed about you
I planted the dream in soil.
When I fell asleep and woke up.
I believed you to have grown,
Like any other flower.
Even if you turned out
to be a rose,
I didn’t mind the ***** of a thorn.
When I wiped my eyes
There was a cactus in the soil.
There are good dreams
And there are bad dreams.
Most bad dreams start off good.
Then become prickly and cold.
I didn’t care.
I lugged you around with me
everywhere.
Pulling out the spines
that stuck me.
No matter where we went
I considered them kisses
From you to me,
And me, I considered my dream
A reality.
Then you got larger.
Then you got heavier.
That happy lug turned to a hard pull.
And those cute little ******
Turned into being stabbed.
there’s a reason why most cactus’
Are found in the desert.
And why some dreams
Are just like a cactus

I found a rainbow
In the middle of the night.
Stripes of color that look like it burst through the sky.
It cut through the clouds and took over the buildings.
There’s something different about the night.
At times, everything can seem dead.
But it has its pieces of heaven.
Indigo, blue, red, yellow, and purple.
All dressed bright, Standing on the corner,
Like everyone else that wasn’t asleep.
I suppose that it needed a place to hang out too.

The bend wasn’t as curved as the one you’ll see
Through the day.
It was relaxed and positioned in the sky,
in the way I supposed you would press your back
against the wall.
Then, just like that, It was gone.
Like a pretty woman with somewhere to go

I watch,
And I pull different pieces
Of her out the bowl.
Somewhat tangled and a bit messy.
I twist her all up even more,
And put her in my mouth.
The steam rising fresh from her.
My mouth catches her,
All of her.
Hot, slightly salty.
I love the way she makes me feel.
Eventually, her ways will become mine.
She isn't just some mess in a bowl.
And although I am hungry,
The pieces of her that I drag to my mouth. Are moderate.
I've never tasted anything like this
Before.
She isn't just a quick bite
Of temporary need.
My tongue, my gut,
My soul loves this tangled goodness.
She is my safe space

I don't want to miss
How good your skin feels
In the dark,
When no one else is around
Except our breath.
And we can breathe.

Opinions are just that.
But at the same time, I know,
I don't want to miss out.

I know how bad it feels to show up
Late, and "goodbye" is the last thing
You want to hear.
I don't want to miss out on the
Dark parts of you,
The parts of you that fit
Between the empty space of my
Fingers.
No matter how dark,
There's always a place for you.
It doesn't replace how soft you
Actually are.
It's not for the world to see
They can see whatever they want to.
When it comes to you,
I am not the world.
And I don't want to miss out

The moon swallows the sun,
And for a second,
Everything becomes that much darker.
Nothing moves. Silence looks around,
Confused, looking for a sound.

Her lips touch mine,
And the world stops.
I felt my breath leave my body.
I felt her body through her lips.
My throat the only thing that stops.
My heart spilling over into her mouth.

The silence around leans closer,
Looking for a sound. Any smack,
Any slurp we could give to feed
Its hunger.
We kissed like everything in us
Filled the gaps between the stars.
When it was over,
Only a handful of people could tell you
What an eclipse looks like

I am waiting on an angel.
I’ve paced around in wait
and feel no closer to when I first started
pacing.
no call, no signs of anything that smells like perfume.
she promised she'd be here.
maybe she's stuck in traffic,
or maybe she's the kind of angel
that doesn’t keep promises.

the last time I prayed I asked for a roof
over my head.
it took a while. it took an awfully long time.
my hands were shaking.
just when I was about to give up.
I got my house.
I have that same feeling.
god knows that I am waiting,
no matter how bad my hands are shaking.

still, I wait.
I don’t know how wings feel against skin,
or how soft they are,
but somehow, I believe she is near.
if she is not.
I do believe that something beautiful is possible.
even if angels have a sense of humor

I smell the wild on you.
How the snow is caked in your fur.
When the night falls, what does
It offer besides survival.
And the means to be something
besides human.
We're stuck here somewhere where
The earth has broken.
And the cold envelopes everything it
Touches.
You stand there in the snow
Teeth bared.
Not afraid to go at it once more.
I've grown tired, so very tired.
Your eyes burn the snow.
That fierce longing to stay alive.
What else does the night offer,
We've consumed pretty much
everything else except each other.
And I am tired of fighting.
Nothing pretty survives out here alone,
In the dark.
Together, you and I nestled in each other's warm.
When hunger subsides.
We'll find it in each other

Love is not a circus.
Still, I watched her perform.
I watched her spin around in circles
And pretend to fall.
I watched her paint her face red
And smear her clown mouth.
She laughed at things that weren't
funny, often mixing up the punch line.
Still, I watched her perform.
I watched while she loved another,
A man that didn't know she was there.
The audience could tell.
Any of us could.

None of the balloons that she carried
Seemed to float,
Pretending to trip and fall into our hands. The smeared makeup around her mouth twisted into a smile she didn't recognize.

After the show, she asked, if she really did fall would I catch her?
One of her smiles telling the ultimate truth, Smeared left then off right.
Like she brushed against something.
The start of the next show.
Those ill-fitting clothes weren't so ill
After all.

She fell towards his arms,
Hoping that he'd catch her.
Love is not a circus,
Although their stay is temporary.
Painted faces tell no tales.
Not all injuries heal the same

Late into the night,
a fire rages on,
devouring everything it sets its sight on.
memories, splinters, concreate and rubble.
still, it wants more,
nibbling on silence, the dark of the night
itself.
its tongue stretches and laps,
its stomach nowhere near full.
it twists and turns, ignoring
the tug of its shadow.
it wants what it wants,
regardless of how it tastes.
its fingers constantly reaching out,
leaving a scorched trail everywhere it’s been.

here I sit, watching the fire
grow in size and height,
hoping that by some twist of fate,
it finds what it truly hungers for.
until then, nothing or no one will be able
to put it out.
I too have tired myself out,
opening the refrigerator,
like you will magically appear.

We live in between the break
Of things,
Mostly broken and curled up
Into each other.
The glow of the screen,
The result of a million jolts
Crammed into one place.
I suppose we do need things
To spend our money on.
Things that we can add to our dreams.
Especially if it doesn't interrupt
What we've waited all day to watch.

For two broken pieces
Sitting together on the couch,
That's alright.
Of all the times you've appeared
In my dreams,
I cannot tell you what perfume
You had on,
Or what designer brand you wore
From any of the commercials
I've seen.
But when our show goes on break
Or whatever movie we're watching
goes off,
The best advertisement I've seen
Is the way you look at me

We're but two drunks laughing in the rain. Memphis is a city like any other.
The rain falls and slinks into the potholes. Whatever secrets that are hidden surface and shine with every drop that falls.

What's the fun of staying dry? The rain mixed with the sweat of our skin.
When you kiss me, I feel the beads of rain fall harder, my heart a puddle that catches every drop, caught in wet embrace. We may be drunk, me more so than you. Even if lightning slices through the clouds, and the rain begins to come down even harder.

What's the fun of staying dry? Every street leads somewhere, even if the sky tears itself open and the world becomes a blur. I am a drunk fool, laughing outside in the rain with you

Call me,
Even if it's 3 a.m.,
And I am dead to the world.
Every fire pit eventually has to go out,
But even those cold ash embers
Are kept warm by the lively ones
That have yet to go out.

If you get lost
And the surrounding starts
To look unfamiliar,
Call me.
Even moths need sleep.
I promise you're not disturbing
Me.

We'll find another pit to hang around.
If you get lost and don't feel
That warmth around you.
Don't you go getting lost on me,
I'll be that lonely stubborn ember
That refuses to go out
One that keeps you warm
Until you feel safe,
And we both fall asleep
There isn't a dark too deep
That we can't explore
Even if it's 4 a.m.

I  am a ball falling into
A corner pocket.
Hit and sent flying.
The clatter of hopes and dreams
Knocked into each other.
I tumble into darkness
A world I've never known.
Unsure of where I am going.
But I roll.
Sent spinning across a velvet tongue.
I feel the rush.
Direct from the cue stick.
Pushed by the cue ball.
A crisp crack and I am sent flying.
Seamlessly waiting in line
Not knowing what number I am.
A shot aimed into netted lips.
As I tumble and swirl.
It turns out it's not so dark
In here after all.
Love is a game, and here I am.
Waiting to be placed back
Into the rack

I cling to you
When the world scratches
And howls like a wolf.
A place that's well lit,
Safe from harm.
I find my way to you
Following the echo
Of the howl.
Hoping that it doesn't
Recede before I am there.

The world around is more
Dangerous at night,
Broken branches, the chitter
Of odd and hungry creatures.
I, too, hunger to find you
Before its too late,
Willing to scratch and claw
On this unkempt, jagged edge.

Its much too cold away from you.
The warmth of your skin,
The fire of your heart.
I can feel it pulsate
through my veins. When the world
Goes mad,
And begins to howl
in hunger.
Your chest is the shelter
I turn to, the only place
The world hasn't gotten to.

We collide like thunder.
Wrapped in your indigo skin,
Wrapped in your warmth,
Fingers dig through the ache
Of wanting more.
Coiled tight,
Clinching,
An reaction of skin
pressed against skin.
I wear your shadow.
Thick in your sweat.
Like lightening you stretch.
Your breath rises,
In search of something to devour.
Again we collide.
Striking the gap
of emptiness between us.
Your eyes searching me.
The primal urge
to connect.
Still searching.
Still craving.
Marking where we lay,
Until the next storm

A hermit crab
In love with his bongo.
Scuffles on with his bongo beat.
Each thump filling the empty space
Around him.
He walks the hot concrete.
In search of something like home.
His shell dragging behind
Weighing him down.
The thump no longer loud enough
To move its tiny body.
The rhythm barely rattling around its
shell.
After a while everything can turn into a drag.
But still, he scuffles on.
He smiles, stopping to take a break
On the grass.
The concrete burning his feet.
His tiny claws scraping across the bongo.
He looks over to his left.
To find an old boot.
Nodding her head, tapping the ground
Following along to the beat.
Although weathered, she too smiled.
Echoing back his loud thuds.
Her sole cracked but full of life.
Life happens in the strangest way sometimes.
Two outcasts alone.
Drumming up stories without a word.
Scuffling on a bongo heart.
Life doesn't have to be a drag all the time.

arms brush on the hands of a clock.
infatuation discovers love
longing to twist and turn into one another.
caught between the tick.
every second that passes
they wait to cross
the hour becomes an echo.
reverberating in hesitation.
anxiety grows impatient.
each minute expanding to that grand moment.
their shadows contract.
the tension of the world fades.
their skin darker than their shadow now.
in a heart beat the clock tocks.
you cannot tell them apart

Your voice forms the bricks
Of a well built home.
It holds in warmth on a hot day
And stores heat on the cold days.
Your voice is a shelter
One that thunderstorms should fear.
Regardless of strength.
Once it dissolves.
Embers of warmth
Still reside within the bricks.
When you speak,
I find that I am home.
A place I am whole.
A place I am safe.
I always know where you are.
Even with both eyes closed.
Between the mortar of bricks
I find your breath
And lay my head beside yours.
The walls a rich tapestry
Framed in communication,
Filled with your breath and pulse.
I live in your marrow.
My every forgotten dream
Rested and remembered.
Your voice forms the bricks
Of this well built home.
Reminding me
That love. Is not just a word

The universe spins and swirls.
Mixing dreams both light and dark.
My ship's hull darts through
Molten caffeine.
I sail in search of the constellation
Closest to your lips.
Like a myth the coffee's steam rises.
Mounds of sugar crystal urchins
scrape the bottom of my ship.
Some frozen in place.
The horror of old wives tales I've heard.
The center of the cup hotter than hot.
Stories of no survivors.
Circling and spiraling in the center
Of a ceramic mug.
I can no longer tell how high the steam
Rises.
I now see that the stories are true.

Through the lens of my telescope.
I see it.
The nebula of your face.
It won't be long now.
Steadfast.
The curve of your lips.
I am now one with the universe!

I am an immigrant
lost in a foreign land.
lost in the language.
Abandoned in the promise of home.
Sacrifice wells its tears in the eyes.
Alone, further the thought sits in.
The breaking of trust twists
and turns in the chest.
Not a soul to turn to.
Not anything reminiscent of home.
The thought of your name brand new.
A place my dreams could roam free.
Stuck in the anticipation of being
a part of you.
I've wandered the streets of your name.
Ambition, now lost and afraid.
Once eager to climb the ladder of your
streets.
In truth all of it was a dream.
Your kiss now dried, now hallow.
Your hand now chipped and flaked.
I've told you my truths
My dreams.
You've turned a blind eye.
Swallowing me in your cracks.
Forever lost in the dark

You stirred the ***.
Taking parts of you.
Parts of me.
The good, the bad.
Even the things that aren’t
So pretty to look at.
And poured them into
The pan.
It’s easy to forget about
The hurt until you come
Face to face with it.
Sour peaches aren’t the end
Of the world.
No matter how we layer it.
These are the things we’ve
Come to love about each other.
Even the hurt becomes mixed
In a sugar glaze with enough time.
No matter how bitter.
The brown of my skin
Mixed with yours.
A recipe that’s been done
And passed down before our time.
No matter how much of a mess
We think that things are,
No matter how bruised a peach
We accidentally pick up.
Nothing can replace the warmth
Of a cobbler.
Straight from the oven.
Soon we’ll both be fast asleep.
Your head rising and falling on my chest
With each breath I take.

For a moment we’re in perfect harmony.
There is no fear. No worry.
Finding purpose in each other.
Whether the shadows creep through the night.
Or the sun lives out loud during the day.
There is but a moment
Followed by an embrace, then a click.


Unlocking parts of you that I only anticipate.
Though circumstances may vary.
This moment I relive, even away from you.
The way that you sigh, the way that you
Twist and the way that you turn.
No matter where I’ve been.
You tumble then you click for all to hear.


A sigh released into forever.
Echoing down its hallway.
No matter how tight you squeeze.
I am here.
No matter how stubborn you may become.
I am here.
Until the day I no longer exist.


No matter how many hands I may pass through.
I can never replace the way that you hold me.

Through its bend.
It hangs on to a promise.
One that hasn’t been fulfilled.
Its colors now dull,


Cascading from behind the clouds.
Bruised yet, fleeting in the blink of an eye.
It searches. Finding reason to smile.
The sun peeks its head out from behind the clouds.
Catching a glimpse of its beauty.


Someday.
Love won’t feel so constrained.
Giving it something to wrap its arms around.
Through its bend.
A brighter day is just around the corner

In a short whisper.
A shy hurricane drifts.
It swirls, rain cascading down.
It sees you, longing for your embrace.
Delicate.
A storm brews inside.
Looking for a way to get out.
Do you feel it.
The gust of its heart quickens,
tenfold.
Longing to dissipate and cover you
whole.
In a short whisper.
The skies darken.
Everything comes to a hush.
Its fears no longer wrapped tight.
A shy hurricane in search of love.
Knows nothing.
But to rage

We reach for the last slice.
Fingers touch and eyes lock.
In a world with enough scarcity
In it, I've had my fill.
I've eaten until my heart's content and offer you the last slice.
It was yours from the beginning.
There was never anything to ask.
Before the dough was baked, before
the free pieces of sausage and
pepperoni rattle around the box.
There are certain things in life that we cannot hide.
Undeniable flavors that coax our tongue.
So take the last slice
and enjoy the last bite.
This is a hunger that goes beyond the physical.
Everytime I kiss you.
I'll remember how my tongue rattles
Around your mouth, the same way

The tires hum over the street.
echoing between the other cars.
finding their way into the trees.
just you and I, the wind blowing in through the window.
Anything to get out of the house.
every mile we travel I am more at peace,
that I am not alone.
I am glad that you called me before I got in the car.
The neck strap that holds my work badge
Dangling back and forth from the rearview mirror.
nowhere in particular to be.
no particular place comes to mind.
It feels good to have you beside me.
the radio down low, lost in conversation.
old memories becoming new.
Your arm slightly bent resting on the car door.
every bump that we hit, the loose change in the cup holder rattles.
just you and I. no particular place to be.
no particular place in mind.
We can stop anywhere that catches your eye.
I made sure to fill the tank up before I stopped to get you.
anything just to get out of the house.
I am glad that you were able to take this ride with me.

lightening appears,
followed by the roll of thunder.
it crashes boldly.
colliding between the drops of rain.
There is no fear. standing between us two.
my soul reaching out for yours.
There is shelter in my arms.
the thunder roars.
demanding us not to veer away.
long as we have each other, fear does not exist.
no matter how far in the universe the lightening
comes from.
It finds us.
We’ve discovered the gift of fire.
Dancing from my lips to yours.
no longer trembling in the cold.
in the dark of night. the thunder rumbles.
like the crash of pots and pans hitting the floor.
no matter how hard the rain pours.
I’ll grip and hold you tight.
through the flash of lightning.
It strikes. Paralyzing me in place.
you've struck my soul.
Zigzagging your way to my heart.
the thunder roars on, with every flash.
this fire rages from our arc.
Your soul entwined with mine.

when I am running on fumes
you fill me up.
igniting my engine to throttle a bit harder.
A bit faster.
you rev me up regardless the number of bumps,
regardless the amount of twist
and turn, in the road ahead.
my heart belongs to you.
propelling me towards the sunset.
the reason I speed down the street in this passionate flight.
Not afraid to jump any unsuspecting hill.
most might think that I am crazy, the way that I drive.
if they knew the reason why, they'd press the pedal down
as well.
when I am running on fumes, rev me up, rev me up.
Darling rev me up.
I am a well-oiled machine with a place to be.
whether towards the moon or the sun.
you're the gasoline that ignites the spark
that pushes me to go a little further.