Today before it rains, I'll big a big boat and sail away in irregular sleeves.
Big floppy ones that hang below my wrists.
Cut little slits to slide my thumbs in.
Then I'll buy a telescope and peer through the wrong end,
Thinking far left when everything seems so right.
Sailing in a pool of rain on the perfect day.
Of all the things I brought from the store.
I still find myself being the main ingredient of a certain stew.
For each drop that will fall I will smile.
Maybe a tad bit old fashion. But who else can see things exactly as I do.
Splashing my shoes in odd shaped puddles.
Today before it rains, I'll think of something a bit more subtle.
Something a bit more complex.
Hell I didn't have anything else better to do so I thought of you.
Wondering exactly what you'll look like from the other end of the telescope.
So far today has been strange.
Buying a boat for no particular reason.
Seeking kaleidoscopes and telescopes,
Waddling my wrists around in odd fitting sleeves.
Climbing aboard my boat waiting on the rain to pour.
By chance if I were to see you on today of all days, and you were to ask why.
My reply would possibly be the most simplest thing I've ever said.
Taking nothing odd out of context, Or the extra length added to my sleeves.
I'd simply reply.
Hopefully sail away from you.
The telescope was just to distract you

I am in love with the infinite space that you provide.
The calm found after each second anxiety ceases to exist,  revealing that all will be fine.
An invisible duct of constant wonder.
You never cease to amaze me.
Your unpredictablely shy.
First appearing, then disappearing.  Mere clouds following the sound of your voice.
Revealing more and more about yourself, not knowing where to end.
I love that about you.
The fountain of youth found in the dimple of your smile.
Forever found in the throb of my heart.
Tucking me into a blanket of complete comfort.
Leaving everything out in the open the loose strings and fabric.
Tucking me in, never minding the weather.
Dividing your goodnight kiss across my head.

You are my sky and with you I plan to do nothing but fall.

Dead in the center of her heart I found a minotaur.
Of all things a frigging minotaur.
I stood puzzled as we locked eyes.
When I stumbled upon him he was sleep with today's newspaper drenched across his lap.
He bounced up in full guard.
Me being me I asked him for simple directions.
Telling him that I thought I was lost.
I planned on seeing heart shapes maybe a butterfly or two.
A big bunny shape thing or two but you, just wow.
He grinned slightly and said yeah that's the first time I've heard that one.
One step further, I added.
I take it from the amount of drool on the side of your lip you've been sleep for quite a while.
Now I don't mean to intrude on your guarding the labyrinth thing but,
How about you let me *** a smoke and we'll talk about it at the nearest dinner.
After all who can be mad over breakfast

I'd like to think of her as a bible,
One undeniably within reach.
Free to the touch, the embrace of saving myself well, from myself.
Hearing myself in a way not thought possible.
I Convenient to the word she speaks.
The tenderness of realizing that the next moment is not promised.
Though I rejoice in taking the next moment as a promise.
Knowing that if I shall close my eyes and tomorrow never comes.
That I'll be present wherever she is.
Understanding that the beauty of her is not easily obtained.
The excitement of sitting in silence.
Allowing her to probe my mind.
To heal the aches not easily curable by anything other.
The taste of palm to cover.
To be remade by a higher power.
The miracle of knowing.
The metaphorical essence of innocence

Every gesture,
From every glance to every touch.
Was thoroughly apart of her.
A celebration of confetti scattered about her eyes.
A ****** of adoration.
Her toes bare, gripping the bottom of her shoes through her socks.
An extension of what's felt inside still unseen.
The glow of her skin.
The mess made in her eyes without need for a dust pan nor push broom.
The fluid and grace of being alive without restriction.
She made love outside for all to see.
The wisp of cold air made warm by her sigh.
The door to her now open, doorstop wedged in the crease beneath the door.
In a look exchanged between the thousands of days between her eyelids.
She uttered please don't make slam the door
This is what makes it sacred

My brain is still in prayer,
Following an apology for the same sin about to be committed.
Sort of like the reflections we see amongst ourself in other people.
Pointing out only the things we see in ourselves.
That sort of stand up comic that points fun of that one guy in the front row, never really taking in consideration that same guy could be waiting on him after the show.
That cynical psychology of growing up with siblings.
Would you think twice if you seen chickens standing out of a fast food place.
The ethical influence of hunger dissipating as they
Stand there patiently waiting for the unnext best thing.
Love is relentlessly blind.
A hunger that never really seems full.
Are we the glutens chasing something without a face only knowing taste.
Staring lovingly into each other's eyes but in actuality craving chicken.
What suppresses this urge.
Besides the hope that this Sprite isn't flat

Between the highs and lows experienced day to day.
You are worth more than your weight in gold.
This you should take pride in,
The kindness, understanding, and strength that keeps your head elevated.
A way to the truth is found deep inside you.
It is there you will find treasure tenfold.
Don't dilute your soul with negative image.
Tainting yourself of all the beauty you possess.
Don't fear those that refuse the light that shines from your crown.
Or those whom speak ill of you.
At times like this, nourish yourself from the fountain of enlightenment.
Ascend higher in consciousness.
Control your breath, unclench your fist.
Gain the strength to go that extra mile.
A light will emerge, causing mass hysteria amongst the darkness
And within this light, the greatest treasure will be found.
That light is you.
That gift is you.
Don't forget how special you are or how much power you truly possess

I built a castle in the center of her heart,
A place where I was able to come and go freely.
All with a single purpose, to protect something so precious.
There, where I built a place I've come to know as home.
Not to misconstrue any point that I'd ever leave.
Leaving the hallways door-less
With marble pillars, that would be impossible.
Straying any distance.
Hearing nothing but the echoes that wisp between the hallways.
I've confessed to my soul that it would be the only other place I'd consider home.
Considering her eyes the wilderness, filled with wooden branches and small creatures with bush like tails.
The calm of it all.
If I had one desire, I'd want her to believe that the constant pain that she feels in the center of her chest is the sound of hands, convincing her to believe things that otherwise she would never think possible.
The sound of plywood and stone coming together to create something perhaps
past her level of what's considered sane.
The construction of pillars to protect her heart.
The constant walks in her eyes, gathering wood to stoke the fire that keeps everything warm.
When you close your eyes,
Would you find it at all strange to see one of many things that keeps your heart warm.
Night falling over the wilderness,
Revealing the wolf that constantly howls
Standing in watch

Let's go somewhere far,
Somewhere where I'd hold you tight.
Hand in hand.
Wherever you'd like.
Whether train or plane.
An automobile or an boat.
Either way will be home in justification.
Journeying through each other's eyes, a different aspect of seeing things brand new.
A single step becoming wholesome
Just for the sake of getting up and getting out.
The feelings that dwell within
Escaping out.
Anywhere with you, to be perfectly honest. 
Venturing abroad in living, breathing color.
Heads leaned against each other in excitement,
The comfort of toes covered in warm sand.
Sculpting each and every memory.
The sun becoming a spec in the horizon.
Exploring every wish, every dream we've found within reach.
The feel of every couch cushion.
Misplaced nickels, dimes.
Caressing the weight of weary legs.

A earth tone colored pattern. 
The lobby of every room folded In the brochure of our heart.
All in the autobiography of us.
To live, to breathe in the essence of where the ocean sprays against the gleam of your shades.
The hull of yachts splashing against the oncoming waves.
The ripeness of fresh fruit served at local vendors hidden from the sun harvested by kind hands.
The only thing missing is a good pair of shoes.

Or perhaps lay here with you just a bit longer

The deepest grief I believe I've ever suffered was journeying through the extremes of true happiness.
To some extent I don't look at you as the same person.
Just because it's a thought of you doesn't mean I should be entertained by it, although it is a thought occurring inside of my own head.
To wait is to find hope.
Meanwhile hope journeys into the split road of faith.
At what point does metaphysics become alchemy.
The mark of an educated man scribbling on an enlightened woman.
The whom the how's and what not's
The true statement where knowing becomes understanding.
At these times anger misconstrues everything.
The simple wildness of the mind venturing into what the heart feels.
A lion seeking to devour the silhouette of where a lioness once stood.
Without color is it still considered prejudice.
A heartfelt contemplation which the mind deciphers a million different ways.
Sticks and stones swept under the fault of closed  eyelids.
The deepest grief dug by expectation.
The best intentions made empty by the deepest grief.
Motorized hands starting anew once the clock strikes twelve : twelve.
Repeating the thoughts that often replay on an daily basis.
To wait is to find hope.
Meanwhile hope journeys into the split road of faith

As I stood.
I noticed I was on fire.
Every inch of me consumed.
Engulfed.
Losing oxygen I gasped.
Expanding with each sigh that escaped this happening.
I stood helpless.
Was there anything other that I could do.
Watching the flame cacade over me.
Cracking an unknown desire.
To what cost, standing there
Consumed.
I was no longer froze, beginning to slump in every direction.
My oxygen breathing life into each crackle.
Residing in the coal my body became.
Scattering bit by bit in the wind.
Through the skies I burned.
Me and her.
Covering me with a warmth I've never felt.
Sitting down running my hands through sharp stings of hair.
That's exactly what I needed to survive.
Something new, something out of the ordinary

Made of peanuts I feared the hand that searched for me so adamantly.
Watching the strange horror across agonized faces.
The bitter crunch of teeth.
The dissipation of silent screams.
Why not the cashew beside me.
All he does is laugh,
I blame the commercial for all of this, at least he got to keep his shell.
This totally wasn't what I had in mind when I said I'd meet you halfway.
Paralyzed in fear I sat.
Watching this hand pat all around me.
A total invasion of privacy.
Rattling what sanity I had left.
Sometimes it feels like I'm losing my mind.
Trapped in an empty container with nowhere to go.
Of all days why couldn't you rinse your mouth with something else.
Finally finding that annoying cashew,
If I could close my eyes and pretend it was all a bad dream.
Sweating inside of these tin walls.
If only I would have known that the world was going to end today.
I'd probably cover myself in chocolate and pretend I was someone else.
I would have hatched the perfect escape plan.
Here's to hoping I get caught in your throat so you'd have no other choice but spit me out.
Stupid Planters peanut guy

There I was.
Loitering in the lobby of her heart, after a long flight the only thing on my mind was rest.
The aroma was nice, stepping in through the double doors.
Following the stretch of carpet to the front desk.
Air conditioner stationed right above the door soon as you walked in.
Almost feeling myself sink into the splash of a fresh comforter.
I stood at the front counter waiting to be checked in.
Didn't quite feel like home.
The longer I waited the more anxious I became.
Messing around with the pen chained to the desk.
Making circles and snake like motions with the chain.
Noticing the dust under one of those small relaxation fountains at the closest end of the receptionist's desk.
The hum growing louder signifying that the water needed to be refilled.
More interesting.
There were no vacancies.
Good that I made reservations a month before time.
Noticing the aquarium over by the elevator.
There I stood loitering in the lobby.
Patiently waiting.
After a while, it sinks in that all lobbies are the same.
An endless void of waiting.
Was it absurd that I envied the fish watching me from the aquarium.
It's a strong possibility that he fell asleep watching me wait as the receptionist hasn't quite made it back yet

The letters I never sent still sit and collect dust.
An novels worth of thoughts filled with you.
The time taken, conveying something not so easily read aloud.
If by the time I do send these letters your thought will still be present.
Sealed with the accordance that I imagined your lips before licking and sealing it shut.
Of course not every letter is of a serious tone.
There has to be some silliness somewhere.
Smiles scribbled to and from the end of the flap.
Letters nicely tucked, a hint of cologne still lingering about.
Words floating from one page to the next.
Hoping you see my face in every line in the letters I never sent.
Simplifying the significance of how much I thought of you.
Facing a blank sheet of paper soon to be filled.
Attempting a million and one ways to confess all the unique and special
things that make you, well.
You.
No one is you.
Remember that, as by the end of this letter I'll imagine placing my lips against your forehead.
That's enough for me.
As the letters I've never sent will soon become a novel devoted to the many times I've sat and thought of you

Normally there isn't anything
Special about an normal hello.
Most use it as an scapegoat to avoid awkward tension.
That weird silence that sits in an strange exchange of nothingness.
But this particular exchange was inevitable.
Sharing something true with a complete stranger.
trailing the sound of laughter, the sound of connecting eyes.
Staring at her I could see her smile swallowed by the crinkles of her cheeks.
By this time I was unsure of my imminent doom.
All things ****** into a complete void of nothingness.
Bringing to attention that I was soon to be blown into an weird yet satisfying oblivion.
Sitting there smiling into her eyes.
The infinite chance of a reoccurring moment.
Swallowed whole by the expanding effect of oblivion.
An expanding light flickering in the glitter of darkness
Closed in the gap of her hands

It's hard sometimes you know,
Savoring something sweet.
You just don't want it to disappear as it's a shortage on delectable things.
So many things lose their flavor after a while and its like **** not again.
I mean the memory is always there but every now and then you just want that good mouth feel, like **** that was good.
Okay maybe that was just lazy.
But seriously having to go through the hassle of taking apart a wrapper
Time and time again.
Having to remove this or that.
Come on let's get to the good part already.
The ****** of flavor exploding into your mouth.
That private moment you can just be yourself anytime or any place.
The Ecstasy of it all.
The peace found after destroying something so beautiful.
At some point we're all savage. Face it.
The moment of build up, the anticipation of waiting for the very moment you finally get your hands on what you crave.
That one voice in the back of your head that pretends to act calmly.
That one voice arguing in the background saying do that ****. What's calm about what your doing.
Hell it's all one in the same.
But only the saint's whom attend Church every so often are the only ones
whom deny such a carnal desire when everyone is around.
Hahaha The Devil is something else ain't he

I can't unlove because I am
Impatient, selfish.
I love as if I cannot be hurt.
Going on as if nothing is wrong.
I cannot unlove because I know not how.
I spend my nights awake dreaming of how everything should have been.
The speeches I have amongst myself
Lost in complete darkness.
Accepting the sound of my voice as an I told you so.
Seeking a dream that seems so far away.
I can't unlove because I accept disappointment.
The contempt of putting others first without fear.
I truly believe I cannot unlove because I am in love.
Young again in thought running wild, free.
I consider it a perk.
Being the only other person I know how to be.
No longer embarrassed of facing the opposite end of the mirror.
Finding that the most important things bring the most smiles.
I am far from perfect
But I cannot unlove as if I made some sort of mistake.
Purposely mistaking myself as a fool

Mid way up the mountain, I turned around.
A solace breezed through the clouds, now older.
This sudden amnesia covered in snow.
This reoccurring season, was I ever changed.
Now grown with age.
The jagged edge between my fingers.
I grew self conscious.
An utter of silence hushed in the wind.
I sought rescue without proper justification.
The sights from here were breathtaking.
Watching breath turn to frost.
The cabin seemed so small from here.
Elevated peeping down on a snow covered roof.
All things considered I sought escape.
Confined to a small place with the blaze of an fireplace.
Quite funny how somethings change.
The sloping feel of emotion.
Feet scattering through ice regaining balance.
I was naked before the whole world.
Standing there before the mountain let out a hard cough.
Was I still the same.

Slipping off the ledge,
Holding on while watching a field of snow rush towards me.
I suppose the only reasonable thing to do.
Is let go.

This avalanche was you

From the iron works of my mind. 
I invite you to drink comfortably from the cog of warm longing. 
Steel beams and steel rods set in heavy slant.
From block hats to angler clothing. 
I invite you to the splendor of ships sailing across a mug of spewed oil. 
If only for a while to delight in 
Iron plates along with nuts bolts and other various knick knacks. 
With handles attached to the back of our necks we'd gladly suffice the steam filled cups, the ticking of grinding gears. 
Oiling the pipes of gentle longing. 
Behold the giant structures wrapped around glass eyes with shaded tint, 
Metalized lens and hydraulic jacks enticing fascination, 
Here 
Between the clock towers of umbrellas and block hats. 
All is quiet. 
Oiling the pipes that crave but a simple thirst. 
Watching the steamships sail across an mug of oil. 
Taking turns sipping from the nape of bolted necks and mechanical hands. 
Please won't you join me

There was a time when I sat still.
Soaking in unavoidable truth.
Choosing instead to sit and bathe in a world of thought.
The sun peeked through the window, concerned by the calmness
that struck my lips.
A sudden grip of the edge of the tub over by the sink.
A witness to this random disorder of paused lips.
Each drop of water soaked, dried with a towel.
Coming to the conclusion that I myself was naive.
That the longer I stared into this mirror,
that It wasn't my reflection that I was seeking.
It was hers all along

When I think of you,
I think of a bag filled with a variety of color.
One coinciding with the next.
A peaceful look through a kaleidoscope.
Being at ease in a calm hush.
A sealed smile found under two big bubble eyes.
Two fluffy cheeks, big ears.
The prosperity found in a lapel of flavor.
Bunched together to create something new entirely.
Taking a handful of you and placing it in my mouth,
Cascading around a swirling tongue.
This is me reliving each moment spent with you.
The thought of you protected by a plastic bag.
Based solely on this purpose alone is truly mesmerizing.
Each thought identical to the next, different in hue.
A tropical swirl leaving it's mark on the top of tongues.
Spreading joy with every touch.
When I think of you.
I see the kind of woman I can spend the rest of my life with.
Constantly falling in love with flavor after flavor of all that you have to offer.
Breathing you in with each swirl that circles around my mouth.
The thing about gummy bears, no matter how old you get.
They will always be timeless.
And so will you.
If you were a gummy bear I'd savor each piece of you until there was nothing left.
If that should ever happen.
I'd be tremendously sad.
As my gummy bear would be gone.
I can only imagine your expression after reading this.
Picturing you as a gummy bear

Your voice is like my favorite song.
I'm not quite sure how to explain it.
Soon as you speak my soul is instantly combustive.
A deep echo heard in the farthest region of my soul.
Standing there, roaming free.
Each peak skydiving into the ripple of my heart.
This edgy parapsychology that ceases to end.
Doused in gasoline, ignited, remade anew, soon as the door way to your mouth
is opened.
Never fading.
This majestic feeling that you give.
I wish my headphones had a higher setting.
To take in more of you.
Each throb against my ear drum
Echoes In perfect excitement.
My heart pounds in anticipation.
A pool of gasoline touched by a spark of fire.
A bright blaze taken place inside the well of me until there is nothing left inside.
This is the effect you have on me.
Waiting to hear your voice climb the peak of where I stand
In the farthest region of my soul

I watch you.
Wondering back and forth, gathering twigs and berries. Bringing to life a place only you allow your thoughts to wonder.
Although serious. I admire you alot.
I know if I was in your position I wouldn't walk through these woods alone.
I've seen alot of things though. Alot of the world's ill's that wisp through the echo of the trees,
I even watch the quirky things that you do without realizing.
The quirky cute things that you often pay no attention to when you do them then say "what" like nothings ever happened.
Like stopping to smell the daisies instead of the roses.
Splashing in a puddle of leaves then watch then scatter one by one.
Laying there without a care in a world.
All appearances are not what they seem.
As the world itself is a crazy place.
Sometimes you need that. To step outside of yourself and just play every once in a while.
The journey to grandma's house isn't a long one.
But the next time you stop and whisper your secrets to the birds and the wind flutters your coat.
I'd like very much to feel your hand rub through my fur.
And protect you on your way to grandma's house.
Maybe let you ride on my back

In the calendar of your eyes,
I can see myself there everyday.
Marking big X's over the days your face was the first thing I saw when my eyes woke.
Waking up hearing the sink of each thought I've had of you.
Cleansing myself under the very  same faucet.
The stress of the world fading soon as you take me in your arms.
The warmth of you clothed around me in ultimate comfort .
Watching the days turn to months.
Marking X's over days as they pass.
The rainy days cuddled in each other's arms.
Our arms the logs that ignite soon as the fire sparks between our eyes.
The sunny lazy days peeled and tasted on each other's lips.
Until the night falls in the turn of the calendar

To what do I owe this childlike obsession
If chosen to be called that.
Am I exaggerating this whole thing, putting too much thought into something so simple.
The characteristic that gives chase day in and day out.
I dream and I chase.
I chase and I awake.
Am I humanly incapable in presuming that this is all I need.
Before the first day, I truly lived life without purpose.
Stuck in endless boredom,
An endless contemplation debating which dining room set looked better
Without a dining room to occupy the full set.
Whom is the turtle, whom is the hare.
Whom provokes who. Which one is you.
Which one is me.
Antagonizing this urge, a simple conversation turns to more.
To taste, to smell this infatuation each time your around.
Realizing the hunger that persisted to move my feet in a forward motion.
Driving me to the brink of insanity. The earliest appearance, the first time you 
ran from me.
The second time you ran, I thought maybe it was me.
Something I said. Maybe you were busy.
The third time, I saw it as the gateway to my time no longer being mine.
The silly things you do.
The teeth gritting. Fist clinching, I can't believe you just did that fall out into laughter. Do it again, I can't believe we almost tried to **** each other kind of silly.
Through it all I do care about you.
Despite the sound of buckshots you always find a way to outwit me

I never just agreed to the complexity of modern technology.
This whole wait now
I just called to say hi.
I mean face it, we are wasting precious minutes
While the boogieman still sits in the deepest crevice of our minds.
The things that drive us wild.
Our fantasies.
The pajama pants left untied for a reason.
The warm hands that await comfort.
**** the phonelines for not receiving that message.
That ******* voicemail recorded soon as the boogieman creeps in just as we close our eyes in wait.
**** you for not picking up the phone in time.
For not committing the intrusion of the late night thought of you.
Bare feet, long shirt and velvet thong.
The sprinkle of perfume dotted beneath your bellybutton meant for me.
The gasp of your moans passionately fogging up the screen of your Galaxy note.
The custom text sent only with a picture beneath a pulsating background.
Give me one good reason we should continue to use these **** phones while they tempt us with what we already know.
When what we feel is more personal than some **** handheld device

In most occasions all it takes is a few seconds.
A few seconds that turn into everlasting moments.
Moments we come to anticipate.
Whether it's a laugh, a moment to spend doing what we truly love.
A few seconds is all it takes.
Becoming attached at moments notice, a laughter not yet forgotten.
The excitement that spreads through each of our bones and alone
becomes the medicine that eases all pain.
It goes without saying. A few seconds is all it takes.
Most times nothing else is needed.
A silent connection of eyes refusing to look away.
The tight grip of hands not wanting to let go.
Enjoying pleasure under a seconds notice. Going on to everlasting memories.
Could you truly imagine a day where the earth itself kissed the moon.
Like literally eased a kiss on her cheek while she wasn't paying attention.
As brightly as she shines now. I bet you she'd shine brighter.
As in the seconds it takes us to define something. Over-complicating something so simple.
He truly sees her for all that she is.
In just a few seconds, a lifetime can pass by just that fast.
In most occasions we look up and wonder where the time has went.
When right along it stares us right in the face.
That's what makes it so perfect, the moment is always perfect.
To indulge in a smile, a laugh, a still moment of nothingness but bliss.
The only thing about most moments as well as a few seconds.
Is that they sometimes take forever and a day and waiting is almost if not always the most difficult thing to do.
You never get use to it, even knowing that your there

Theres no better place I'd rather be than here, now
I know at times I'm hard to read and can come off nonchalant.
At times like this I'd lay my head on your shoulder and drift off
into the topic of any and everything.
Acknowledging the hello that leads to perhaps my favorite getaway.
The acquaintance of head to shoulder.
A declaration of perfect vacation.
A daiquiri of various flavor, nothing hidden from view.
Close but far away from distraction.
The embrace, resonating in the shutter of your voice.
A silver spoon to a bowl of thought.
A reflection mirrored in an half eaten spoon of sherbet.
Holding spoonfuls of you in my eyes.
Wondering about in each layered flavor, no longer restricted. rippling in wave after wave of melting mountain.
Orange and green.
Belonging to one another in a way never thought possible.
Unfolding deep in a valley found between ears
You and I, becoming like clouds in the horizon.
You and I
Laid on a silver spoon
Dipped in a bowl of thought.
Half eaten
Side by side without a single thing to do

Cupid was standing next to the Halloween cards stretched so far from the valentine's day cards.
He pondered.
If he could pass out hearts like packages of candy.
Would people remain children at heart forever.
Without need for costume,
what would happen to the ghouls with nothing to vandalize.
Slowly falling in love with the taste of next year

At that moment fingers rushed in an ooze of excitement,
A lake confronted in foam.
The smell of you cleansing everything it touches.
Could you image that,
Placing you in a bottle dispensing you little by little.
A thick lather filling the gasps of fingers.
How could you make a simple shampoo smell that much better.
How is that possible, I mean who on earth does that.
The slogan itself would be perfect
I mean Absolute genius
It would simply read
You
Possibly a picture of a deranged bunny on the front of the label.
A fluff for hair, One eye caught in mid blink.
Chipmunk like jaws.
The essence itself would be breathtaking.
I could see it now.
Placing you on the cosmetic isle in a bunny shaped bottle.
There is only one problem however,
How could we begin to bottle up something so precious

A star fell from the sky.
I picked it up dipping it in a bowl of chocolate.
I watched it sink, gasping for breath in a pool of brown.
Buried beneath the sky where no one would find it.
After a moment, I bit into it.
never before have I experienced such a thing.
A star in the palm of my hands.
Decorated in milk chocolate. An extra pound of sugar.
I bit into it filling my mouth with each twinkle, lost in perpetual bliss.
Hershey's alone couldn't afford to taste this **** good, *******.
My tongue drenched in adventure. Covered in melted chocolate.
The misconception that things aren't as close as they seem.
The only thing about it,
I forgot to wipe my mouth from where I hid your heart

There loomed a certain belief,
One that exhaled soon as she passed.
A sudden urge that fizzed over soon as the bottle opened.
Now granted you can still drink a soda once it's shaken
Most would replace desire for that of another, the discord
Of being splashed in the face by the very desire one in the same.
Drops of truth splashed everywhere seen as backlash, a sort of wrath
Spoken but never heard.
There was something about the contour of the bottle,
Fixed thoughts filled in ovulation.
Everything kept inside.
A certain vengeance that loomed in bliss.
If not handled carefully doom was immanent.
Each time she walked passed he'd shake the bottle more vigorously.
A cold fizz that quenches every desire steadfast with reality.
Curious he looked at the bottle, wanting to quench this need
He placed his hands on the top slowly unscrewing.
Her eyes connected with his, everything paused.
For the first time in a long time everything was beautiful
Sharing a brief look relaxing his shoulders.
He untwisted the top, for a moment she sighed
Feeling a release she hasn't felt in a long time.
His hand smooth against the contour of the bottle
He placed his lips against the bottle easing her to quench this thirst he's waited so long for.
This urge that dried the well of his throat.
She refused him the pleasure of her, keeping her fizz to herself.
Now he knows what it's like to be on the outside looking in

Her hello was fragrantly sprayed beneath her chin,
Circling the front of her neck.
A collarless shirt covered in a variation of Dior, or bombshell.
A candle lingering the sweet aroma of blue and orange.
A beautiful stranger I could meet over and over again.
Hello.
My hand surrounding the caress of her fingers.
Covered in warmth
Again, Sincerely, hello.
She smiled a bit.
A Scattered flower spread a part of herself
Given freely. Fully awake staring,
Watching her hello say farewell to the bottom of her lip
The stem of such melody, seeing myself where her collar would go.

The nape of her neck,
Wrapping myself in a blossoming bud.
Meeting her halfway.
Hello
Hoping to meet you again ; The lovely fragrance of her hello

Her door was the sanctuary to inner peace; a sudden enlightenment
Engaging the candle of lit eyes.
Mindful to the calm hush; Disappearing in self.
Body, Mind, Soul.
Beside her door there was a lake wide awake with open ears.
I stood there Absorbing her wisdom.
A depth of kindness with each interchanging current.
I learned to speak without words. Connecting thine eyes with hers.
All else was swallowed; Exhaling, then breathing again.
Fingers extinguishing all else that threatened a light shone from her.
Her Eyes.
She'd shone me courage, grasping my hand. Entwining her path with mine.
I bowed to her and her alone in guided mediation.
At that moment there was no need for mirrors, realizing that she was my reflection.
My spirit animal, my refugee.
She taught me the language of her heart, being shown in silence.
I journeyed a place ears would have no use, my tongue becoming a stranger.
A total embodiment to the gift of her and her alone.
A beautiful lesson in poverty; Clinching my hands in prayer.
                                                         ­     Blessed in her presence

And like that, the sound of fireworks plunged into the sky.
We were adults left pretending as kids.
Watching the fireworks highlight the essence of each others face.
Each explosion substituted the throb of patient hearts

The jitter of anticipation now immanent
Highlighting our face a different array of colors.
Subtle, the light flashed against our face, a blossoming rose bud flourishing
in bright flash.
Each smile distinguished in the aroma of our heart displayed in the sky.
Soon disappearing into shadow of the night.
And we, forever etched in a memory.
In hindsight, our hearts had a blast.
Reaching up high then falling back to the ground

She placed me on top of her head as if I were some type of hat.
Sticking my head out ever so often,
I Rested comfortably in the wool combs of her hair.
Never before have I been able to breathe so freely.
My feet massaging her scalp.
In my honest opinion, I explored a sensitivity I knew nothing about.
Laying in a field of hair.
Dark brown roots,wrapping my finger around natural brown curls.
I wanted to know why she never shared this with anyone else.
Hearing my echo come back to me in complete silence.
Something seen out right, a wool ornament seen in the fall.
Hanging across the greatest joy shared between us two.
Finding home in the follicles of her hair

Freedom is the urge
That breaks out inside of us that makes us want to run.
An unseen Parkour of hands and feet.
Covering the threshold of walls and windows.
An key to an apartment
Of untold potential.
Seen as a window,
A causal gaze.
Things once seen as 3-D now seen  2-D.
Coming to the realization of just who we really are.
The desire of choosing to see things as brand new
A stillness of sorts.
A new brand of simple.
Holding on to a rail debating on whether or not to jump or hold on for a moment longer.
I.
The infinite compliment of the heart.
Choosing instead to run escaping,
The unfortunate pleasure of being chained in schizophrenia.
Gorillaz beating an untamed drum.
A constant pound, hands and feet becoming the ultimate form of expression.
The scuffle of feet over the sound of concrete.
Lost somewhere in the city.
Gorillaz beating an untamed drum.
******* my thumbs are up.
Unpaused ****** expressions, Revealing perhaps way too much.
A cup of cold noodles quietly waiting wholeheartedly.
Next to the gorillaz loudly stating otherwise.
Them.
The painkiller to an over twisted wrist,
Procrastination is a *****

Of all things,
She opened my mouth and built a bridge only we knew existed.
She arranged pillar upon pillar
Of steel beams.
I struggled understanding what
To do with the left over bolts.
She grabbed my hand
Taking turns throwing them on the outskirts of where we stood.
We stood between the beams,
An incline of sights seldomly seen.
Afraid of heights she rarely looked down.
She'd bury her head in my chest
Very rarely she looked down.
Spoken words clustered in steel beams
Without fear of plunging below.

I've missed you, thinking of days past.
I couldn't escape utter silence.
I intentionally  revoked certain knowledge, standing on the steps of an haunted house.
A paper skeleton hung from the door, a ghost of broken promise.
Detachable limbs.
Threatening to call the police to interrupt a shot of tequila.
A certain ghoul, tequila.
Recollecting involuntary disgust.
The look of your eye.
Full, chocolate.
The horror heard from your voice. A sudden shriek shrouded by excessive need.
My world slowed, haunted by your everlasting stare.
That Insidious scene played once again.
The cruelty of silence.
A ghoulish thing, the haunting of something no longer there.
Please I beg of you, next Halloween reconsider dressing as a ghost.
I'll miss you even more

Upon reading, I still quite didn't  understand .
Not until applying my own definition.
Even today she's meek, humble.
Once a dream, I woke to find her gone
I Still hear her voice so far away.
What was this idealistic principle.
Youthful soon to mature,
Finding it's way into a grave.
The scarcity of something so precious.
The adoration, was any moment opportune.
I knew very little, seeking her.
Comprehending what I knew from such a small glimpse .
Resistance truly was futile.
Stumped at the very root.
Grabbing the proverbial apple, taking a bite.
I no longer had any control of my life, displaced with closed eyes.
Searching for a glimmer of hope,
I urge, 5 more minutes
She wasn't a dream

To my surprise I got a call from a friend I haven't heard from in a long time,
Ecstatic, I was filled with instant delight.
Before I could say another word
she told me that she had a gift for me that in the utmost urgency I had to come get it.
A few moments later she sent a text message. One filled with the utmost emphasis of now,
When I showed up she had a sneaky grin on her face
Hands behind her back
asking if I was ready.
I couldn't help but smile replying of course.
Without warning she jumped up wrapping her arms and legs around me,
Whispering in my ear that she knows how much that I love hoodies, though it wasn't much, here was one that would never fade or tarnish .
Her face becoming an hood
Enveloping my face
occupying my hands with her back

In the spur of conversation
She asked if there was anything I wanted to know
Removing her head and placing it under an can opener
Insisting that I push the leaver down,
Telling me that it was imperative that I did so
I found the request insidious
Telling her that I would do no such thing to cause her harm
Coming to the realization that I just watched the woman pull her own head off her shoulders and place it under a can opener.
She considered it a moment of trust,  using her own hand to push the leaver down
Revealing that she had no secrets, insisting that I grab a spoon and indulge in her next thought

When I first saw her I wondered the reason for her stare.
Nothing out of the ordinary but after a while you know, self conscious thoughts kick in.
Is there something on my shirt, does she notice how big my head really is.
Do I have a ****** that popped out to say hi.
Standing at the front door of hello and what the hell,
At this point I don't know if I waved to ease my comfort or hers.
My first impression was that she was tore down, the after effect of an avid pill popper, far too gone to realize how tore up she was. Xannies, Bars, Rolls
coming down from a pharmaceutical high
Kind of slumped over, standing there.
Lips quivering a muffled sound.
An impediment of sorts collecting her words as they spilled on the ground.
I walked over asking if everything was alright, I mean after all I couldn't just leave her there fumbling about.
Then out of nowhere I heard everything I couldn't hear before
Every word lunging at me making it perfectly clear that she wasn't living in her head nor was she just standing there integrating herself, eyes rolled to the back of her head.
In retrospect, I should have paid more attention to the lack of arm she was missing.
**** zombie

This morning I craved the taste of coffee,
Today of all days, running late to work constantly eying the clock
It really wasn't the coffee that I craved tasting my lips
Perhaps the aroma, that sweet smell swirling around the bottom of the cup until full.
Foam circling the top of infatuation
The sprinkle of sugar, cream.
Perhaps a vanilla swirl circling about.
Enticing the fact there wasn't a big enough mug to quench my craving,
Imagine her surprise when I placed the travel top of the coffee cup on top of her head

She has this urge that makes her open her mouth and howl,
This undoubtible urge that cannot be ignored.
She cannot express it, this desire that comes as an howl
A kind of war that screams in peace, isolated from everything she knew.
An annihilation of the shutters felt through skin.
Coming to a complete hault, a still breeze.
A silence of footsteps heard from foliage
An ecstacy of sorts.
Spreading like wildfire, burning everything it touches.
Laid bare in an empty room, her.
Cutting loose, giving into need.
This passion that beckons her
howl
Well aware of the moon
Bottled in winter's height.
A wisp of desire rising from her cry
No longer disillusioned, she howls.
Head held high, naked in euphoria

Love, if your there
I'm knocking, peeping through the opposite side of the peephole.
Love, you are everything I've ever wanted
Champagne glasses splashed together in laughter
Love, I know your busy, I promise not to take too much of your time
Love, I know it's things we don't understand
with the open swing of an door I'm sure the glimpse of each others eyes can shed some light on the corners of ourselves we keep hidden.
One way or another we are destined to meet.
The melting *** of hearts delight,
Love, I can't keep missing you. The divine faith that I will catch you while your home, nothing to do.
Holding on to times I've caught your passing glance, lingering in memory.
Love, I know your day is filled with the tolling stress of work
At times I know you feel the need to kick your feet up and just be yourself.
Love, I'm saying I want to be there for that, delighted to indulge in the comfort of what we've yet taken time to do,
Will you do me the favor of indulging, if just for a moment.
The feathers of your hair fluttering through the wind,
A collection of memories that burst into our cheeks soon as we see each other
The ocean shore of future trips away from the welcome mat we've ventured to and from.
Love, if there is anything on your mind I am here.
Don't be afraid to speak your mind, Just as I've sought a moment of your time
I would not forsake the need to ease your stress with a listening ear
or something out of the ordinary and repeat back what you've just said.
Dancing across each word that slips through your lips,
With attentive ears and lips that crave to talk to you
And only you.
Love, I love the way you dress.
Those stylish shoes, the aroma of that new perfume.
It brings out the color of your eyes, the skin beneath the clothes you wear to protect the steady beating of your heart.
If only my ears could find their home there, listening to each and every flutter of your heart.
Renewing my faith in you.
Love, to scream your very name in the hallways of your heart.
Love, to find out more about you each moment I can,
Love, I can't keep missing you. Knocking on your door without answer.
Love, I will continue to wait until I can catch you when your not so busy.
Re-imagining love on a different plight, another definition of what lure me to the light of your eyes, The pace my heart beats to each step of your foot.
Love, I am the moth that is attracted to you,
Attentively awaiting the reach of your hand.
Fluttering left and right following the way you walk.
Love, shed some light to the corners of myself that I keep hidden.

Under the thick of loves thumb
I found a boxing glove
Short of that I found a bruise
Trying it on, following an angular shadow
The blues of chewing with a bruised jaw
Two left feet
Taking a seat rubbing my brow
Her how didn't add up to the purpose,
Another shadow appearing
brow now endowed with a pulsating throb
The blues of chewing with a bruised jaw
The pain of loves boxing glove

The gospel of us starts where you begin and the night is no longer blind
Finding it's way to light
Lending our lips to the horizon
There is nothing slanderous about such union
An ***** that follows a choir of voices
The amount of steps before kneeling in complete submission
The morale of breathing you with every breath
The grief of if you ever thought of me
As I've thought of you
Kneeling in the comfort you provide.
A complete submission
Feeding myself from the very well your thought begins
Meeting again in the realm of the stars
The clasp of hands dedicated to love
The outline of each stare enclosed in the constellation of a blink
An eclipse of your head overlapping my chest,
Should I ever be condemned for such assumption
Made in each others image
Meeting you in such a way
Caring to heal myself for the betterment of you
The lullaby of your heart
A nursery to joyous ears
Falling deep into prayer
Leaning ourselves to each other's hand
Remedy to the sick child inside us
Selfish
Throwing tantrum
Selfish
Reverting back to singular praise
Kicking, screaming
Caution thrown to the wind
Still optimistic in faith
That no matter how childish we act
It is that sick child that will save us both
Balance
The Renaissance of something so simple

The job of the heart
A constant throb
Mere kernels until all is cob
The swab of eyes
Please do advise
Popeyes
That savory smell
In a crunchy shell
A munchy crisp
Misspelt in emotion
Chunky potatoes drizzled in gravy
Honey drenched on top of biscuits
Mac & cheese
Taking apart the sorrow of that cob like heart
Even if for a while
Least the stomach feels better

I confiscated a pound of her heart
Placing it on the table
Unraveling it's package; breaking the seal
Undoubtedly her essence took to the air.
Urgency struck
Breaking down its contents; moist cigar, the press of thumbs;
Sprinkling pieces of her heart
twisting rolling twisting
Shaping odd pieces of her heart.
Brown wrap
Her essence on my lips
Tucking her heart tighter in the wrap.
A slow release
Heart shaped smoke
A Euphoric binge