Sometimes I call to just blab
Alot of the time it's about nothing.
It's not really that I don't like to talk about how I feel.
It just takes it to another level
That we have this type of relationship.
That we can laugh & vibe about anything.
It's real because it gives a different type of importance.
A different type of love.
Something that doesn't have to be serious all the time.
I can dial you up or pop up and rest between your legs & just blab.
Blab & know that your really listening.
Blab because that's who we are.
Blab because there isn't any pride to it at all,
The world spins a bit slower

I planned all night that when I saw you we would finally converse and that I would finally get to know you better.
Between all of the passing glances.
And not being able to catch up to you sooner.
Tomorrow would be the day I catch you when you're not busy and fill you in on what's been on my mind.
But of all the craziest things.
I forgot the words mid sentence.
My lips moved but nothing came out.
You stood in anticipation.
I stood anxiously waiting for some type of sound.
Constantly playing this moment in my head before actually getting to this moment.
I stammered over every word.
Stuttering over the simplest of words.
I barely managed to get my name out.
I held my hands out and paused.
Inviting my lips to let at least one word out so this situation wouldn't be completely awkward.
I continued to stand feeling beads of sweat begin to form against my forehead.
In a climate controlled room I felt like I stepped inside of my own personal hell.
The simplest of words were the devil.
At that moment embarrassment became my biggest sin.
I don't know if it was bitter sarcasm.
Or a good sense of humor.
But I did finally feel a bit of relief when you told me that you didn't speak good english either

And like my favorite song
You've been on my mind since I heard you.
Escalating into the next time I hear you.
Out of the blue into my life.
The rumble of thunder.
A silent lightening.
The way you strike.
That word like food with fondest memory.
Too soon.
Defenseless to sudden strike.
Everything around shook in heavy appetite.
The way you've come in my life.
Flashing.
Revisiting everywhere you've been.
Until I see you again.
Flashing into my life
Sharp and silent.
In unending storm

Tomorrow I said that I'll soak and bathe in the middle of your heart.
That I'll remove clothes from skin.
Then run my hands underneath the faucet then take hand to soap.
Tomorrow I said that I'll find another book to not read and sit it up on top the shelf.
Giving you my undivided.
Lying in water surrounded by creme colored porcelain.
A wash rag and a bar of soap made of your smile.
Tomorrow I said that I'll be more of a talker.
Especially in the moments of silence that become instant memories.
The silence being but a moment to embrace a time where words do no justice.
Long soap foam beard. Soap foam covering each follicle of hair on top of our heads.
I know tomorrow I said that I would do all of this and more.
But why wait when now is just as good as time as any.
Cleansing myself in you

I caught you in the corner of my eye.
If only you could read my mind.
The sweet notations I selfishly hold.
I'd like to think that I've caught you.
Displacing myself in every other word you say.
If you've ever noticed my eyes as close as they are now.
The intimacy of being held close.
Secret longing.
The swift pace that eyes move.
Catching you in the corner of my eye.
On the border of each blink.
Temptation, the watering of eyes.
Terrified to close.
Terrified that when they open you'll be gone.
Having to chase and catch you all over again

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

Freedom of speech is to reiterate the liberty I feel when I am around you.
Freedom of speech is to reinforce through verbal communication that I miss you.
Rather than the silence of closed lips, concealing every heartfelt thought that tears away at my heart that goes without notice.
To hear you reply with not only your words but the reaction of your eyes.
The openness of your body. To heal this incurable ache.
Through verbal stimulation only can this freedom be heard through longing ears.
To hear you say the things you keep near and dear to your heart.
This universe that you keep inside swirling between your ears.
The orbit of your heart, longing and throbbing with a life of it's own.
This freedom which I speak liberates the soul.
Keeping things inside otherwise felt in death.
The regret of keeping things inside that should have been spoke into existence.
Otherwise how else would you know the taste of this freedom spoke from my lips.
This freedom that echoes loud and clear that reinforces action.
To voice opinion. To live, to love.
This freedom which I speak I need you to hear with closed eyes and an open heart.
To reinforce this love I have for you. To constantly place pieces of me inside of you.
To return to me the same freedom that I hope to instill in you

Life gone get you baby
The same way you love to keep gettin' me.
You know it's hard, you know it's hard to tell baby.
Exactly when, exactly where.
Life gone get you baby.
Get you the way you got me.


Set your bags down baby,
Life gone come on back round'
Gone get you, gone get you baby.
Same way you love to keep gettin' me.


Ain't enough money in the world baby.
Not too many more places you can run on hide in.
Don't know exactly when, don't know exactly where baby.
But life gone get you,
Get you the way you love to keep on gettin' me

I was a stranger, one whom forgot to say thank you.
She beat my hand to the door. Holding it open as I walked past.
It totally slipped my mind. Rushing to make it outside before my uber left.
Too drunk to drive.
My mind totally in another place.
She was much as a stranger as I.
A beautiful smile passed in a blur.
Soon as I turned around she was gone.
It crossed my mind to knock on every door until I saw her face.
Life is far from a movie, nine times out of ten her boyfriend would have answered the door.
Some strange looking dude with every right to be protective, uneven line.
Dingy basketball shorts.
Soon to leave moments after I do.
The color of my shirt standing out in an all white hall.
Finally complying to my uber driver's yell.
I figured that tomorrow is tomorrow.
But if I see her again that would be perfect.
Mentioning that I forgot to say "Thank you"

Have you ever been lost?
Lost to the point where you didn't know which way to look.
Which direction to point your feet? And every street looked the same?
Have you ever lost yourself  in a transcendental feeling where you felt that up was down,
And down was up?
A constant wonderment where you couldn't wait for the next moment to come?
A split second that turns into addiction- a moment that feels like your first kiss?
The moment your mouth waters almost out of control,
Wandering about in your garden of thoughts. Replanting every seed. Harvesting the fruit fresh grown by the sun.
Have you ever lost control of your breath?
Hyperventilating into a circumstance where time itself has gotten away
And you weren't at all bothered?
To relive all of the feelings that feel like only yesterday.
Mere seeds that are scattered into the very garden that has become root of where you truly felt your happiest.
A moment where you left your bookmark at home and revised a whole chapter of your favorite book with the biggest smile?
If at all you've ever been this lost, you deserve to be locked inside an insane asylum.
Because most people need a passport to visit the things that truly make them happy

The simple things are often said to be the best things in life,
As the opening of doors are better than the sound of closed doors.
The silence of sheets laid still under a thick comforter.
You and I.
Walking down the hallway hand and hand.
Staring in the window of each others soul.
Sharing a laugh or two in the midst of deep conversation.
Something silly, something witty.
Something simple.
Someone like you.
Someone to share a laugh in relation to how similar we saw the world growing up.
Did you really think it would end so fast.
Growing up to see how much we differ, how many things are still the same.
Fighting over what to watch, what we're going to eat if we ever manage to get out of the bed.
Old habits die hard especially after a long day at work.
The simple things that bring us closer together.
Whether we decide to go out and try something new or lay here a moment longer,
No matter how much we get on each other's nerves.
I'll still kiss your forehead
As it's the simple things that make life worthwhile

Don't forget the goal.
True love is powerful and not to be taken lightly.
It's hard to reveal your all to a complete stranger without assurance.
To be fully accepted, to hold to have in complete comfort.
Don't let go of the way your heart beats.
Let it flourish, grow from the stem and fill the petals with something wholesome.
Dreams are built within dreams.
The thought that leads to action.
Take the reigns.
The stem only knows to grow.
Provided with enough sun.
Enough water.
Dispite whatever obstacle.
It grows over, it grows through even under.
It takes form and even grows with a bend.
Nevertheless.
It grows.
Covered in sheets spread and enveloped in the bud of petals.
In arms reach of each other.
Through sickness and in health,
In perfect communication.
Through dirt, through the mud
Not only in bad weather but the days where the sun shines its brightest.
With thorns to protect,
It feeds the nature of balance which stimulates more growth.
Never forget the goal

In pure essence.
Her heart was an ocean and I,
A whale lost in depth.
Not the prettiest of fish, yet I searched for affection.
Living and breathing, I know not what I sought.
Not understanding that what I sought and her heart were one in the same.
Continuing to live and breath in her essence.
She housed me in affection.
Feeding me from the cusp of her heart.
Drowning me in how strong the current of her heart flowed.
Finding knowledge that swam under the tutelage of schools.
I grew to love her in various length.
Splashing down in the depth of love.
She kept me in the darkest part of her heart.
Forever buried in memory. Discovering the light that peeped through despite
how fast the current flowed.
She calls every so often to see if I've found what I so adamantly sought.
Right in front of me the whole time

Before words were ever written
There were words.
Words that some what equate visibility.
This transparent line spoke 
Before my eyes found the cover of your face.
With this burning desire to speak
I dotted my tongue with ink &
Began writing along the page of your thighs,
Placing the period of my lips above your navel.
Before words were ever written
There were words,
How ever silent
I dotted my tongue in your ink &
scribbled the blank page in my affection.
Between the space of words, I hear you moan
With this burning desire to speak
I dotted my tongue in your ink &
Began writing along the page of your thighs
Without restriction

A cloud floats by.
She smiles a rainbow.
Tearing the wrap off a red paper bag.
She closes her eyes.
Tight as they'll squeeze.
Tasting her fantasy from hand to mouth.
Who knew a rainbow could taste so good.
The flavor of each color melting in her mouth.
She's in love.
Standing on top the rainbow.
Swishing around a kaleidoscope of flavor.
She's lost in the taste.
Her mind is at ease.
Until the next time her crush passes with ease.

This Christmas Doesn't feel like Christmas
Until my eyes decorate your cheeks &
My teeth hang from your bottom lip like
Missile toe.
 

Although the weather changes & Santa
is checking his list.
I am patiently waiting for the warm fuzzy
feeling I get when I am with you.


With my arms stretched around you like Garland
There's no place I'd rather be.
My cheek pressed against yours like a bulb.
My smile stamped in white circling round
Full & bubbly, bright red.


Long as I am hanging around you,
Christmas feels like Christmas

Sometimes when I close my eyes
I see slight ripples.
Sometimes grain.
I sometimes wonder how most people see the world.
Bright colors.
If everything is as clear as it appears.
I assume it's normal. To wonder if things are there or not.
The static that appears before my eyes.
A desire held within.
The static compensating the reality of how things are.
A visual interpretation of what I miss most.
Nothing ever solid.
A face appearing between the grain.
I can never read her expression.
Dissipating seconds after I open my eyes.
Mounds & mounds of snow.
Sometimes I wonder.
If you ever see the same snow that I see

And if I am guilty of one single thing.
It is this.
I love too much and show too little.
Realizing in the end that I am the undoing of what I care most.
I need to believe that past is past.
Instead it dictates too much of what my future holds.
In truth I am terrified.
I believe too much in the things that hurt.
I am sold into beliefs to find that truth is never really what it seems.
I buy into sudden beliefs.
unconsciously we hurt each other.
We digest different pieces of each other and swallow them with water.
The prescription to love ourself is still the same.
It's terrible, the way we react before the initial action.
A means to cope.
Seeking refill before the prescription has run out.
We run out of patience.
Standing in line.
The hacking and coughing of times pass.
The body aches and trembles.
An infection that continues to spread.
Still we search for ways to rid ourselves of everything but the right thing.
Staying home in fear that contagion will spread.
Have we really run out of things to say.
Our voices cut short from the swelling.
A different piece swallowed, over and over again.
Chased down drowned with water.
Fallen asleep, to wake our symptoms worse.
Seeking a pharmacist to heal already present symptoms
without first a medical prescription.
In fear insurance won't cover cost.
In your absence I haven't done much healing

With a much more serious face nowadays,
Deeper in tone. Quick in wit.
The question now is what's wrong.
The deep thought that plagues a curious mind.
Am I wrong for smiling at such a question,
The fact that something appears to be wrong.
Thus must be it.
In fact nothing is wrong.
Just a random impulse I suppose.
To reign in as a material savior,
Something seen in flesh. The curve of eyes.
Everything would be better now, right.
Supplying you with a simple answer that appears to be solution to your unjust problem.
To what means dictates that I reveal every thought.
Just because you ask of it.
Single bodied to one word.
By then would you be justified leaving me empty.
Outside appearances are indeed deceiving then, right.
Making assumption to problematic gesture.
In the end should we both then be disappointed.
The promise of a future with no past.
Decorative in a sense.
Made to fill the gaps of silence, 
If at all it eases your mind.
No, nothings wrong.

 

The mere fact that I like that your leading me on
Reveals a lot about how I feel about you, continuing to sit here.
Such abuse.
In fact, I implore you to continue.
Tell me more of your infectious lies.
What do you really think of me.
Fill the gaps of my curiosity.
The single body that you speak of contains more than one word.
Educate me on the subject of your well being.
Am I worth touching on in thought.
Do I bore you this much.
Don't speak, I fear I know the answer already.
I've become immune to your poison.
I adore it so.
Outside appearances are deceiving.
Quite so, point of the matter.
You were waiting all along for me to ask you

Her heart was like a million tiny rubber bands
Bouncing from one direction to the next
A boomerang effect
Honest in truth
Memorizing the feeling of each echo
The pull and snap of elastic
Too often
She gave pieces of herself
In the end
To be the only one cleaning up

Hold out your hand
So I can pull you closer.
Watching the stars light one by one.
I've never seen them this close, the stars.
Sparkling like they are dancing,
Your eyes staring deep into mine.
Tell me you know how to dance.
Your hand held tight in mine, the small of your back.
The stars shine so bright, hidden beneath long eyelashes.
The perfume of a constellation brimming this close.
The smudge of lipstick across my lips.
I've never seen the stars this close.
Pretty baby, I've never seen the universe quite like this.
The night wove across your skin in a dress

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 slumped down in the caress of her heart.
Resting my head in each throb that resides beneath my head.
A singular motion that echos a plural motion of mine.
I laid and I daydreamed.
Feet moving forward going nowhere,
Sighs drifted off into the horizon of her eyes.
Laying on the comforter of her heart.
Sheets wrinkled beneath the weight of my body.
I laid there and I stared off into the sun.
Seeing its light everywhere I looked after,
I was in complete comfort,
Blinded by the reflection of her eyes.
Letting loose the butterflies that filled my stomach onto the sheets that
lay beneath me.
They gave their wings a rest coming to lay beside me.
Caught in the glimpse of her eyes.
They've never witnessed anything more beautiful.
How precious, the moments that slowly pass laying here,
Her low cut eyes, an infinite sunset that rested in the horizon.
Deep down I wondered if she knew how beautiful she was.
Laying here in the center of her heart.
If I could spend the rest of my life here I'd be fine with that.
Just the echo of her heart, the way I feel when she's near
I miss her each second she's gone though not far.
Before I knew it, I went to sleep in everlasting bliss

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

She gave him life in the whim of passion.
Drawing lines of pleasure. All of her pain that she's felt over the years.
The very existence of all she's ever dreamed.
All in the hopes that he'd never do the same.
He and he alone would stand the test of time.
The portrayal of locking eyes, deep shades of gray.
Drawn and retraced.
A homesickness suffered from the gift of tender eyes.
She remembers the nights the rain wouldn't cease.
The creases her face made in grief.

In the end. All she had was the sketch pad that never left her side.
He alone took each tear and rested his head beside them.

Her sketch pad.

This vigorous sketch that stared off into the distance.
She screamed of warning to the oncoming flood.
The beads of blue that traced every drop of rain.
Blending bright and dark hues to the paper of her pad.
Wool combs of hair colored in, blending into the background.
She thought long and hard.
First filling his hands with roses then taking them away.

Deep marks left behind from a couple of flicks of her wrist.
An eroding eraser.
The blossoming of a new sketch, a tremble of thought.
The rain came back even harder.
More fierce the next sketch she made.
Paved and coated over and over again.
A fear that she would never become the recipient of all she's dreamed.
Someone that would love her for all that she keeps hidden.
She reacted to the woes of thunder and lightning.
A tear made deep then covered.
Resistant to all shes felt.
A deep pain struck against the burrow of her heart.
Every flower in the valley of her screamed in anguish to the water that continuously fell.
The valley becoming a gutter in front of the driveway she drew.
Blue and gray hues crosshatched across the page.
Surrounding him in the background.
Here he stood outside in the rain for hours in front of an empty house.
His heart replacing the roses that filled his hands.
Within the confines of her sketch pad she illustrated her best friend.
The best friend she's ever known.
Someone that she could trust.
Made her feel whole.
Here within the confines of her sketch pad.
she illustrated how he made her feel.
She drew breath into his lungs in true fear.
Knowing that somethings aren't meant to happen.
Of all things that she loved. She loved herself the most.
Promising that she would never feel this hurt again.
The torment of having something precious ripped away.
A homesickness suffered from the gift of tender eyes.
She remembers the nights the rain wouldn't cease.
The creases her face made in grief.
It was that night she made the promise never again.
She drew her best friend in a world.
Cold and alone.
All within the confines of her sketch pad.
Where she felt she could be herself.
Illustrating the exact way he made her feel

It seemed normal enough,
The moment I saw her.
She walked in the store, door chiming as she stepped over the theshold.
nonchalant look on her face
Just killing time really.
I was standing behind the lady at the checkout line
She got closer, standing beside me, asking for singles of black and milds
One rhythm, the other blues.
She was vibrant, letting her voice reign over the cashier ringing items over the scanner.
The sun gave praise to her silhouette, sprouting wings behind her
We made eye contact for a split second
Hair arched behind her ears.
Tight fitted jeans. Jacket stopping at the bounce of her purse.
The sliding door seeming to hold a bit longer.
Her eyes looked right through me, placing a brief hold on giving the cashier my items.
Coke zero, a bag of chips.
I really don't know what made me stop,
Just driving around, nothing better to do.
She was polite, placing one foot in front of the other.
Pausing for a moment longer,
I suppose I was enlightened stepping into her world.
Her back letting the sun through the sliding door.
Paying no never mind to the newspaper and candy littered in front of the register.
Stealing glances of past mistakes as she passed by.
The thing about a perfect moment is that it never lasts as long as it's suppose to.
Exchanging an hello for a sensual look, following the trail of perfume left in her eye.
The over compulsive touch of eyes.
The peace of mind of something out of the ordinary.
The verbal pleasantries of open gestures.
Warm, inviting.
Honestly, speaking never hurt anyone.
Though I was curious if she bit or not

Her voice, angelic & free of restraint
Easily calming as the wind.
There's not a thing I'd change about the way the wind blows.
All of the good things that come as each breath slips between her lips.
The expressions her face would make conversing about any thing,
An language understood in the complete silence our eyes would make,
With complete permission to rest my ear against her voice,
The peace of mind offered by the touch of her soul.
The individually that separates her voice from that of the world.

I've never been the best
at making coffee.
I have a moment every now and then.
I pour, and I watch it swirl.
You don’t say much
you just sit and wait.
The liquid swirls,
not aware of the weight
of the world.

Hot, fresh,
Full of life
finally, the mug is filled,
and you take a sip
slow, deliberate.
I want to ask you,
but either way, I’ll never know.
Even if it’s the worst cup
you’ve ever had,
you’ll smile and say it’s good.
Either way,
I too will enjoy the space
shared between you and I,
and brew another ***
just for you.

And with one single flicker a warmth was felt.
As it lit and swayed around I swirled in thought.
How can something so small define in mirror image,
what I've tried to say so many times.
I becoming like the wick surrounded by depth.
Lost at sea without so much as a barge to rest my head against.
With you becoming my single barge of refuge.
All thoughts of despair and lack of faith disappeared when I bumped my head against your strength.
The fragrance of the way you soothed without so much as a word.
The city lights never shined as bright. Nor have I had reason to want to stay put until you showed me
how much strength I had in myself.
The barge of clear glass that surrounds us.
Stained by the scars of who we use to be, we constantly sink.
Discovering depth over by the far side of the fire that slowly descends. Devouring the wick.
If ever this fire should burn out shall we truly find out what it is to grieve

Everyone attempts to put a price on everything.
From jobs, to going on vacation.
Fluctuating gas prices, the necessities we can't live without. The cost of everything is going up.
There really isn't too much that people haven't put a stature to the almighty dollar which constantly diminishes everyday.
We barely have enough time as it is without hustling trying to make time for the things that we truly care about and seem to neglect, having to constantly look at the clock.
It robs us of the sincerity that follows.
A genuine smile that is very courteous but is also rushed at the same time.
Somehow we've come to the idea that we need a certain amount of money to truly enjoy ourselves.
Big businesses know this very well.
They expect us to cling on to the vast images that we see flashed in front of us in subliminal advertisement.
Via television, social media, or word of mouth without realizing that too much time has already passed.
About the only thing we truly take for granted are the moments that we finally remember to breathe and cherish the very same moments we remember to smile.
Forgetting who we are in the process of trying to make ends meet while maintaining the perception if it's ever enough.
If at all possible, today I want you to press pause on the things that make you smile
And live in that moment for as long as possible.
As it doesn't cost a thing to smile, it doesn't cost a thing to greet someone with a genuine embrace.
It doesn't cost a thing to sit back and breathe for a second or two.
Set a limit to how much you give of yourself.
Because those whom take, will only continue to take

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

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

And when she began to speak
I opened her mouth just wide enough to look inside.
Stretching her mouth as wide as I could get it without causing pain.
I looked around directing her head in the light.
Highlighting everything I couldn't see.
And when I let go she asked what all of that was for.
With rose eyebrows I replied the person I met a couple of years ago

I bet you will smile.
after this next sentence, you'll see.
That this was about you

Here we hang,
dressed in our very best.
When someone walks past,
we hold our breath,
hoping that someone notices.

The lights blink all around us,
the flicker of warmth in cheap
plastic bulbs.
The tree shakes us awake
every time we think that we’re
about to go to sleep.

We tremble enough as it is,
being this close to each other.
I look forward to Thanksgiving.
normally, that’s when the tree
comes out, as well as the garland.
Soon after, I get a chance to hang by you,
seamlessly doing nothing.

Though we hang on hooks,
it cannot replace the feeling
of being next to you
our reflection mirroring one another.
Even if no one else notices,

soon after Christmas,
we go back into our boxes,
until the same time next year.
While we’re here,
I wanted to let you know
that I cherish these times.

Seamlessly hanging with you,
doing nothing.
Every moment an ornament
falls and crashes into the ground.
I don’t want that to be the case
between us
until we are cracked and dull.

I enjoy the time I spend beside you,
even if there isn’t anything to do
but hang in anticipation,
until next year

I'm in love
That young black love.
That attention with no pressure.
Straight shot no chaser
That love at first sip.
Taking a cruise in the middle of the night.
The bass turned to the max.
Thinking the same thing
Heading nowhere in particular.
The first time hearing a **** *** song
Comparing it to you.
That young love matured to something grown
Something ****.
Stopped by a red light
Waiting for it to turn green.
Spending the night
Not wanting to see you go
Incense rolling papers and pandora

I've been lazy.
Listening to one side over and over.
In constant rewind, traveling to a better time.
I realized so much more.
Flipping the tape over.
Following the sound of your voice.
I smiled so much.

It's not that I preferred one side over the other.
Finding error in my mistake.
In truth I thought things would never change.
The world finding convenience.
Music forever changed.
The click of a tape being ejected now shared between us both.
Lazily laying.
The voice in my head singing along with yours.
A long feeling that starts as brief.
Enjoying song after song.
Exclusively living in heaven.
To sit with my headphones and listen to the only tape that reminds me of you.

Our endless conversation.
A fear of the tape jamming.
Since then I've become lazy.
Before and after buying batteries.
In constant fear that any moment the cassette player will eat the tape.
And I'll forever lose your voice

You put the biggest smile on my face
In case you didn't know.
The kind of stupid smile that everyone questions.
The kind of stupid smile that invites everyone to ask,
who is the cause of this happening.
Looking down fingers moving a hundred miles per second.
The kind of stupid smile that makes my heartbeat
triple the times it normally would.
The anticipation of knowing on the other end
is someone that I truly care about.
And through extension,
My happy ending, my happy beginning
All sent through a message
That tickles my heart.
This happiness erupting from my heart
stretching into my cheeks
Into the kind of stupid smile only you could give


Seeing your name come across my screen

I want to build a home with you
a place pieced together of words,
passed from you to me.

Eventually, the walls will breathe,
and they, too, will whisper
through our bones.

No matter how old we get,
they will still be there.

Although neither of us will
completely own this home,
what we will own
is how it makes us feel
and the memories we'll soon sit on
like furniture.

A place we'll come to spend
most of our time,
an inner standing
that it will house both of us,
no matter how we choose
to express ourselves.

The first meal we'll have,
I'll season with my smile
so you can taste what I taste
and feel what I feel
when I see you.

Then you'll understand
why I have nothing to hide,
why I open and include you
in different places in my life.

In this home I want to build with you,
there isn't a wind or a force
that could blow it down.

Even if we were to separate,
my hands will still remember
how we built it
brick by brick,

the mortar sealed
with a kiss from your lips

Then out the blue, she grabbed and held me tight.
I suffocated in a bushel of hair bunched together in  messy bun.
Resting my nose against the top of her head
My nose stood in a wool forest,
Her head buried deep in my chest.
In this moment I realized that words aren't needed for every occasion.
I wrapped my arms around her holding her even tighter.
Nestling her in my arms. 
The metal ball from the ceiling fan clang against the glass from the light fixture.
In proportion to the color of the room the sound brought more comfort.
The repeated clang of metal against glass.
When everything in the house goes quiet and nothing can be heard except for that sound.
Just being yourself in utter silence.
The comforter still wrinkled from where you last sat.
Without question I suppose we both felt like we were home.
In our own little way

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

I gave you my heart when no one was looking.
The time taken to realize how mature we've become.
I fooled myself into believing substitutes are better than substance.
None of this was true.
Giving perspective to how I sought what I already have.
What I gave was vital.
Exchanging hands while no one looked.
A different insight to what we digested.
How well we perceive.
Learning to be patient while everything around moves.
I gave you my heart when no one was looking
Because it is something that is not easily obtained.
To show a side of me that no one else sees.
Over by the table while no one was looking because what's between us
should stay between us.
I waited until no one was looking as people do things out of spite.
Disguising my heart in a red solo cup.
Careful not to spill a single drop
handing you this cup.
How careful your lips were.
The assumption that forever has an interchangeable appearance.
It was never about what I could buy you.
The exciting places I could take you.
Sure these things come with time,
But the experience of experience itself.
Is what I obsessed with until the very moment.
The momentary happiness material things bring never lasts.
Just as the cup is disposable.
It's the contents that are most fragile.
Cleverly disguised due to our environment.
I felt at ease.
Giving this piece of me to you.
Not of fear.
Not of shame.
This warmth shared in personal awareness.
Your tastebuds the only witness to
What's kept between you and I.
The rest of the party carried on.
While no one was looking we created our own playlist.
Songs beginning with you and I.
Nothing digested ever stays put

Kissing her was more than transcendent.
I came to the realization that this one moment was infinite.
Setting ourselves as a door.
Revolving the same emotion that otherwise would flee.
The exact teachings teachers and prophets set as the floor.
We elevated.
Our breath becoming the message stuffed in the folds of our mouths.
Licked and sealed.
We were but envelopes made of flesh.
Our ***** left open, receiving the best of our former selves.
We discussed the effects of paper once wet.
Neither of us cared.
Becoming one with another.
Our fears smeared across our face.
No longer a label our stamps fell off.
We categorized ourselves the sender of mail we often thought to send.
But as over thought occurs.
We become shuffled around. Lost in thought.
Until we mailed ourselves.
***** left open

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 universe spins
Eyes swirl around a cup of tea
The spoon is patient

I slept to wake with open ears.
Let alone, following a certain feeling that led me to believe that I was missing,
To walk a path that led to what I figured I'd treasure most.
A slow walk to me, to you.
Missing the hint that given enough time, all things change.
Learning to open the bright red door without looking back to whom I once was.
Continuing to walk forward with the hint I was missing something.
I convinced myself that I too was a reflection.
That not all footprints are forgotten.
The threshold of a long lasting impression.
Positioned under a wooden frame.
Bulging hinge.
The twist of a ****.
I sort of imagined that it would always be like this.
That self realization where I'd no longer feel I'd fit.
The hinge of an closed door,
That feeling that something or someone is missing.
The perception that time is always on your side.
The sting of a slammed door, sleeping only to wake with a sudden rise.
Left behind in that odd space found between each second.
Pacing back and forth.
Realizing
The amount of time it takes to unlock physical freedom.
When actuality.
I was the door that stood between myself and what I desired most.
A slow walk to me, to you.
With a helping hand, not all impressions are forgotten.
The blank creaking expression of doors and the ones we love

So I wrote to myself.
It's not that I didn't have anyone else to write or vice versa.
What conveys is a generosity of deep truth found with over 1,000 jokes printed on the cover.
Truth be told it's actually more than that.
I am not exactly what you would call a handsome man, but you'd be surprised how much you cross someones mind when they are in need.
So I wrote to myself.
An embodiment that grew legs of it's own.
Kind of like missing out on something that's been in front of you the whole time.
The irony of free will.
A change of scenery, a fresh coat of paint.
It's like nothing ever happened.
I guess that's the inside joke of another day

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

I suppose the best part of it all
Was that I fell out of my shoes.
Where most would be embarrassed.
In a strange twist I felt a calm peace.
I had nothing to hide,
Outside of the fact that I was falling.
Fall fast I did.
The most beautiful of facts, pleasing to the ear drum of desire.
The harmony of her kicking my chair.
Me falling flat against the ground.
A beautiful sound echoes about in memory.
A short in-flight movie of me falling back into one of the biggest smiles I've ever seen.
House shoes flying through the air.
I assume that I wasted too much time.
So she took matters into her own hand.
Well foot at least.
My inspiration

She is the poem I never wrote,
but always wanted to write.
The poem I’d sit down with,
every intention of writing,
but could not come up with
the right words.
Sweet, but fierce.
Discarding perfection,
only asking for presence.
A flower that learned to survive
in a drought.

She is a poem that takes
the pieces of herself and
arranges them in love.
Not the loving pieces easily
found in the light
that’s too easy.
But the pieces that accidentally
wandered in the dark and got lost.
The pieces of herself she forgot
were there.
She takes her time,
finding these pieces and putting them
back where they belong.

When she speaks,
her tongue is like a hammer,
hammering every nail that needs
to be put into place.
Even if she misses and, instead,
hits her hand,
she doesn’t tear everything down
regardless of how much it may benefit her.
She repositions herself
and starts again.

She is the poem I never wrote,
but always wanted to write.
As hard as it is to start again,
she’s never afraid to start again