When I made it to work,
I thought about you
getting through the day,
pushing time forward
until it was finally time to go.
I had no idea what I wanted to eat
until the thought of splitting you open,
watching you sit in the depth of my fork,
did it for me.
A scoop of fried rice,
mixed with gravy
there is something so satisfying
about that first bite,
about savoring the moment,
readying the next forkful.
There’s nothing wrong
with wanting something
that wants you back.

If I spill any part of you
on my clothes,
on my hand,
on the table
I still want you.
I will still have you.

There’s nothing wrong
with burgers, burritos,
or any of the other places I pass.
But in this very moment,
the way these eggs, bean sprouts,
and green onions wrap around my tongue
nothing else compares.
Pressing my fork into your crisp edges,
watching the steam rise
I, um,
should’ve ordered extra

Although I've seen, I still do not know.
I could recall but at that very same moment I would become vocally lost.
Connecting to a thought in a world where things are said but randomly heard.
Questioning the matter of things experienced one at a time whether than whole.
Here lies simplicity, fundamental in it's purest form.
Fruit slices that present a good mouth feel, the total embodiment of placing something where nothing once existed. Or was thought not to.
It still invokes thought,
Reason to where, why.
In a different perspective, am I the fruit and you the mouth.
Is there truly a difference in perspective, there isn't a false pretense to either way point. Generally speaking,
discovering a new way to see something seen as natural. Invoking a sense of feel,
This longing that draws us closer to togetherness.
A practice of longing to indulge in desire.
Consistent in nature, pleasant in thought
Constantly looking for things that cannot be found,
As it already exists.
This love that manifests into something seen, or heard.
This piece of fruit couldn't begin to fit in our mouth the way it is,
It's only sensible that it's cut into pieces to digest more easily.
Here lies greed, mistaken for need.
Seeking only because it's there.
Which is you, which am I.
An basic urge displaced in misconception.
Wanting only because it's there

In the back of the
Bar, the spider sits in wait
The fly strips its clothes

In the back of the
Bar, the spider sits in wait
The fly strips its clothes

The pilot closed the door.
Taking a brief moment to look around.
Patting himself down opening the door then closing it back hesitantly.
He walked past the vacant seats, inviting himself to the copilot seat in the cockpit.
He leaned his head back, observing the silence that surrounded.
Staring off into the clouds.
His back seeped into comfort. Sliding down a bit further.
His knees touching the dashboard to the controls.
He searched the sky. The chair becoming a more enticing place to catch a Z or two.
The plane landed about half an hour ago.
Still he sat. Constantly opening then closing the door.
Feeling the breeze of air pass across his face.
Stretching his legs from being cramped in a tight compartment for so long.
Watching the other planes come and go.
The constant flicker of port side reflecting off his face.
How easy it seems to go home.
Continuing to nod off into a deep sleep.
Listening to the other planes sail off into the distance.
The luxury of dreams

In the topic of magazines.
I sat on the cover, close to the reflection of her eyes.
Relaxed in the greeting of open arms.

She paused, sitting upright. 
The gap between us now closer.
Allowing the invitation of smiles.
Our upright becoming a corner staple in the edge of anticipation.

We both sat.

Allowing ourselves to do what came natural.
My reflection seen clear in the middle of her eyes.
Her personality pasted all around me.

No currency was exchanged in the beauty of two souls flipping to page 42.
Reading the full article.
Taking our time not to wrinkle the pages.
Moving from the cover to emotional commitment.
The exchange of excitement
Where she was free to be herself just as I.

Ideally, I reread every paragraph.
Falling in love with everything represented to be pharmaceutical to deep need.
Constantly reading then rereading the same passages over and over.
Hiding myself behind the cover.
Wanting to know more

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 were but strikes of lightening sealed in a glass jar
Flumbling about
Nowhere to go
Exhaushed, we conducted ourselves
With a slight curb of enthusiam
Sprung to life with the slightest touch
Electric current twirling forward, then back
Sparks igniting beneath our toes
Traces of where we've been crackled
Sizzled in a flash by the dark spot of glass
We were irresponsible in the abduance of each other
The glass soon stained by soot
Purified by the euphria of what came to be known as climatic
Every taste
Every passion
Soon expoliting what soon came to be known as each other
We polluted ourselves with each other
Becoming the overcast beneath the top of the sealed jar
Surrounded by absolute dark;
The way I saw the universe in her eyes
Laying beneath the night sky surrounded by acres of  thought
Vast in length
Breathless in thought
A jolt of vibration quivered in heart

And it goes with undying gratitude
That our disagreement has set in motion
An unyielding paradox.
That perhaps has chipped away more than
we care to admit.
Generally speaking the process of removing mask
from face.
A necessary belief that doesn't present inferiority of wrong doing.
But instead defines the basic principle definition in the same breath.
That I am deep rooted in my belief & any further denial
would lead to my complete & utter ignorance.
That I have seen what you've done & now believe the mask
that is now chipped away has become nothing but ash in the wind.
And I forever grateful.
With undying gratitude

Maybe that's love
the space that exists between things,
the reason there are gaps
between our fingers.
Between everything.
I'd never been good at using chopsticks.
I'd always drop them trying to grip
something heavy,
something more substantial.
One stick would go left, the other
would go right,
making a mess of everything.

Rice was easy.
But then again, maybe that's how love works.
snapping between the space of things,
Because she could pick them up
and use them, no problem.

It kind of changes your perspective
when you're hungry and can't eat
how you want to eat.
Rice is good, but I wanted something a bit heartier.
Something me and my clumsy
hands could enjoy.
She'd laugh,
chowing down on her noodles,
all tangled and twisted up.
It came naturally to her.
Me, I just couldn't get it.
The more we sat,
the more I craved something
Other than rice.
I craved her heart.
Steady, patient.
I didn't know how to hold her
But one day I'll learn how

There sits an geisha along
The shore
When will love arrive; the ocean her tears have cried
Awaiting the sound of Orr like arms to paddle through
Melancholy puddle.
Her hair shimmers ebony
Awaiting a love that crosses the sea
Her Wooden sandels no longer echo above gravel and dirt
Awaiting their sound to be replaced. Repeated over and over
Laped by the lapel of rescuing arms.
There she sits alone by the shore
Seducing the tears she has made; praying a love fair and true
The koi of her dream refuses to swim
Alone she waits by an ocean she's made

Soon as cupid closed his eyes and released his bow,
I immediately knew your face from my dreams.
The girl whose face I could never see,
You were always so quick to leave,
I'd pretend to hate you if it were true.
Just before I open my eyes the stars disappear only to reappear when I close them.
I slouch deeper in the couch awaiting your presence.
A chance to reciprocate just how I feel.
Forgiving you for not showing up a second sooner.
A hummus of white pastures
Devoted to the hunger of the sun,
Devouring everything in sight.
An maybe that invites the utopia of your thought,
Stung by an fleeting arrow, strung by the oasis of an longing heart.
Wondering aimlessly; an clear day
Without a single cloud to be found.
These are the times I think of you.
The horizon of my world.
The clouds move, curious in nature.
Beneath the pain of ribs struck by a fleeting arrow
You are there, the throbbing sensation that pulsates through my veins.
I miss you without having to look down,
I am neither naive nor stupid.
With quiet vocals
I deeply long for you on cloudy days
I deeply long for you now.
My enigmatic arrow
Migrate back to my side

I've never had anyone look
At me the way that you do.
The first time I saw it, I tried
To catch it but missed.
Much like a shooting star
Fast & fleeting.
I remember the look on your face,
The pieces of gold shone by the light.
Your eyes, they do something to me
In my collective thought.
They break down an insane amount
Of answers to questions I've never
Thought to think.
I've never had much luck when it
comes to money, but I can imagine
the amount of fear that makes
someone insane off the thought of losing it.
Today, tomorrow, always.
To look up and see your eyes,
A not so hidden pleasure
Fast & fleeting.
Out in the open and still somehow
manage to miss it.
The second, third, as well as fourth
I plan to catch

She walks in the bar
The bartender sits & stares,
We're closed for repairs

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

I swirled in a ocean of brown.
Venting in steam.
My drown overlapped by current
On top of current.
I swirled around and around,
swimming in sugary spec.
I once dreamed of dry land.
Loosing my footing on the edge of a spoon.
The top of a pink packet torn off.
Sprinkled on my head.
There was no sense in fighting.
One single serving brewed.
It was exciting to feel myself swirl,
All I'd ever know.
around and around.
All I'd ever know.
The more I drunk the more evident it became.
The here after in addiction.
Sweet in taste.
My skin dipped in heart of something so delicious.
I swirled around in an ocean of brown.
Her eyes.
Never once did it occur that I couldn't gulp them.
I still tried.
Lost forever in Mocha flavored aroma

Tonight I want you to model.
More power to you if you think im refering to silk or lace.
Not at all in bad taste but tonight it'll just be a waste of time,
Watching you slip into something ****  knowing that its coming right back off.
Don't think me silly as its essential that you know.
Anticipating watching you put your mouth on it.
Pretending that your not selfishly waiting your turn,
Thats cool, you can admit it
Because in that same token i love watching you swarm around the sheets, reaching as if your soul is about to leave your body.
The wetness that erupts feeling your legs clench around my head.
A Dead give away that your about to run.
Twisting and turning knowing **** well that I refuse to let you go.
Face deep eyeing you fron bellow, watching you lose your breath looking down at me whispering stop stop
Just before your body locks up again and you lose control of your leg.
Its never that easy.
Plotting just what time,
Remembering all the **** you've talked.
Flipping you over, cuffing your hips.
Sliding into ultimate bliss.
Tonight,
I want you to be a model.
But none of that fancy lingerie.
No perfume rubbed against the sides of your neck, between your *******. Or even beneath your bellybutton.
Tonight,
I want you to wear me

Come not so much on the nights
when you are alone, or your mind is filled with grief.
The nights when the stars are the hardest to see.
Tucked beneath a blanket of clouds.
Of all the streets, one way streets are often the loneliest.
These are the times where we recognize ourselves the most.
And like the stars I tuck you in my arms.
Soft & nestled.
It's more times that exist outside of these moments.
Come also when you are free & every star can be seen.
Genuine in the way the moon shines.
Your face.
Never to flee in search of where to shine next.
The smoothness of your skin.
These bright moments that fill the sky.
Your voice the only thing that lulls the storm to rest.
Your curves being the constellation I long to see.
On the nights when your mind is at ease and there isn't a care in the world.
Learning wisdom in the moments of silence.

with a can of spray paint.
I tag my name across the wall of your heart.
my love for you condensed,
shaken up, expanding through
the burst of a nozzle.
swirls of tie-dye,
colliding in pink monochrome and blue.
Vibing, tripping.
After spray freckles tiptoe as high as my arm will reach.
And as low as my knee will allow.
chaos drips in small bubbles soon to dry.
Running through rough open spaces
Where paint used to be.
condensed circles, widening out to bigger circles.
your heart my canvas.
there is no such thing as running out of room.
the best things in life overlap and cross over
into each other.
my name splashed monochrome.
shaken up, expanding through
the burst of a nozzle.
I am swirling in love.
In every shade and in every hue.
coloring outside the lines.
your heart's a kaleidoscope
intertwined between the space of my fingers.
Life imitates art.
Art imitates love.
I imitate you.

Tonight of all nights.
I am here with you.
Clouds of smoke
Squeezed together in festive occasion.
Brown liquor,
Swallowed in warm smile
Lips a silky smooth.
You magically appear,
Gliding across the stage-
Short hair, diverse in curve.
Black dress,
Singer, songstress.
The maestra of all my desire,
At first everything was quiet
then you sing.
You sing this beautiful song.
Words filled with passion.
Raw, heartfelt.
Each word penetrating deep.
My soul, my very being
Leaving me.
Spiraling in urgent need,
This internal urge to jump out of my seat,
Pulled by the tug of your every word.
Vocalized by the depth of yours.
These words brought to life by your voice-
This beautiful voice.
This song highlighted,
The bright light shone against your head.
Short hair, diverse in curve.
Black dress,
One side longer than the other.
Singer, songstress.
The midnight of all my dream,
I came tonight just for the occasion.
My face bright red
Squeezed tight by fever.
The pull of your cigarette.
A residue of ash left of where I sat.
Every part of me gone with the flick of your wrist.
Tonight of all nights.
I am here with you.
The best of me lost among the crowd.
Unseen
Scattered in a room of dark faces.
Squeezed together, Tight fitting building
Brown liquor,
Lips a silky smooth.
Tickets for the next show months away

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 found you
lying on the ground.
You welcomed me to your lips,
Finding early morning twinkle
in your eyes - Just before
the security lights on the house
are cut off.
Shortly before we are interrupted
by the footprints of muddy boots
& soft sole shoes finding their way
into the light.
I found you on the ground &
laid beside you,
My lips melting into yours
Just beneath the sun.
I closed my eyes and fell into you
Hiding myself deep within your reach.
No longer naive to the definition of
forever.
Promise me that you won't leave
at least until tomorrow morning.
My loving arms wrapped around you
until the sun tells me that it's time
to go

Times like this I'd search the bed for her.
To throw my arm around her.
Kiss her in mid sleep.
The comfort of warm blankets.
Knowing that shes that warm lump, kept warm between two sheets, a blanket, and my warmth.
My arm becoming heavier by the moment.
Some nights she'll turn to me.
My arms forming a slight bend curving behind her, her arms stretched underneath mine.
Before losing total consciousness,
We'd hold each other in our arms before waking up, bodies spread everywhere.
Her leg draped over me.
Our bodies dead to the world.
At times like this we depended on the weight of each other,
To fill the gasp of what made us most comfortable

Some wounds never heal.
Vandalized left open for interpretation.
For this it takes serious strength,
To end reoccurring enactment.
Yet he demands.
Almost begging at the waist.
She offers him shelter.
He continues to selfishly take.
She wears woven sweaters.
To hide the deep bruise.
As a grown man he lashes out.
Over and over like a child.
She eventually gives, he gets his way almost until nothing is left.
His relentless cry, not even a child to call their own.
She understands that this isn't the way.
Yet she grows tired, anxiously waiting.
With each bruise she recognizes the difference.
That not all is what it seems.
physically she rejects reality.
Emotionally she cries out.
She suppresses all to keep positive attitude.
This bruise she hides runs deep.
Unable to heal, known relief of vain.
To invest in commitment requires a great deal of time.
Time she's given plenty of.
She one day dreams that one day she will wake up and all will be a dream.
To immediately wake up,
Finding the woman she use to be.
Most folk call her crazy.
The reason she stays.
She takes another pill.
Soon,
All will be a dream

There isn't a dollar amount
that can be placed on what we value most.

There isn't a store that can stock this particular package.
The inventory doesn't come close.

The smiles and memories we add to heart shaped trinkets.
The ones that crazily throb with each thought we keep of each other.

The dollar amount is insurmountable to the way I see you.
The traditional box of chocolates don't come close.

Your kiss sweeter than Hershey's & Reese's combined.
It is virtually impossible to prove worth with these store brought items.

The items we value most.
The items the store can't put a price on.
Cash back rewards are meaningless when each kiss adds further value
to the heart shaped trinkets that beat erratically when we think of each other.

There isn't a dollar amount
that can be placed on what we value most.

Your heart being the most valuable

Happy Valentines Day

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.

Somethings are easier to explain than most.
But what gets me is that everyone fails to mention what happens to the moth after the flame is extinguished.
The sorrow that escapes through the air as black smoke.
The burning smell of a wick sweltering in the remains of liquid wax.
Soon to harden as if nothing has happened.
And the moth, forever left with it's essence
Soon left alone, blinded.
Not knowing which way to go

And like that.
She eased the piece into the groove.
Nestling it close to her lips.
Suddenly her eyes closed,
That horn came to life.
Wide-eyed and bushey tailed.
Stretching it's yawn.
It walked around, journeying to the closest city.
Taking a mid day drive,
Wiping sleep from it's eyes.
It's twelve day noon.
Vocalizing it's croon.
The conflict of working long hours.
Two jobs, a mother of one.
Getting out the bed late.
Trying to remember if she's paid this month's bill or not.
The debate of taking the day off.
Sealed inside it's case.
To sleep the day away.
This weary horn.
With the kid off to school.
She has but a minute.
A loud yawn, the release of stress from a demanding boss.
Every croon loud and long.
A testimony of deep long sigh.
The valves pressed by weary fingers.
A mother of one finds deliverance

She was like a movie.
The way I imagined her.
She incited an emotion I haven't quite felt before.
Going from silly and quirky to a full blown romantic.
She was a character. A bottle full of fireflies each given a crayon.
Tracing the sky with different colors. Small jet streams coloring her lashes.
All with their tiny voices take the lid off.
Something this beautiful couldn't being to be bottled.
Imagining that I could take them with me everywhere I went.
An extension of her everywhere I went. The fireflies replacing butterflies.
Staring at her behind the lens of my glasses.
Easily one of my favorite movies.
A rebel that went without cause. Fighting for what she believed.
I fell in love with her the moment she appeared on screen.
Her constant questioning of why, looking to improve my affection.
Watching my favorite movie in mind.
When she'd accidentally look at the camera I felt her glare into my soul almost as if she could feel me watching.
Anticipating that I'd not once take my eyes from the screen.
Watching my favorite actress bare her soul in the vibrant hues her eyes splashed across the screen.
Throughout the history of my life you couldn't have told me that heaven would appear as close as it did then.
Picturing the term me turn to the epic and complete phrase "We"
A compilation of picturing her do different things, a quick sketch artist falling in love
with flash photography.
Tracing her face in different colors.
The tip of my finger following the outline of her jaw.
A Representative of Hallmark helping me choose the prefect greeting, not knowing that all along she would be the recipient.
My belief in movies

Her heart is an apartment.
A building I know well.
Well lit, comfortably nestled in the center of her chest.
Free from rent.
The trouble of pink slips.
Delinquent notices of insecurity.
Broken promises.
Each of our memories kept safe, behind each & every door.
A winding case of stairs.
With us the occupants of every  floor.
Tiny peep holes with welcome mats beneath the door.
It's times like this when I think how big the world really is.
The countless number of steps taken.
Helping each other unpack our bags.
On the outside of each sliding door is a patio.
The stars never seemed so close.
Long uninterrupted stares.
Peering back and forth.
Our belongings all lined up.
A dresser that holds every piece of clothing.
My arms, legs.
All slid into the thought of you.
Her heart is a apartment.
A building I know well.
She loved old things.
Her heart sterdy, each piece of mail addressed with a kiss.
The only knock heard, goes without embarrassment.
We,
The tenants.
spend most of our time visiting ourselves.
Running up and down the stairs.
Moving in was the best decision I ever made

When I look at her.
I don't see color.
Not the tone of her skin, nor the clothes she wore.
She was a woman. Held upright within her own atmosphere.
She wasn't to be made of material possession.
With one look you'd know why she was regarded as every artist's muse.
But if you'd ever speak to her without regard to which aerosol
imitated her best.
She'd reply she just longed to be

I've asked to be blessed with your melodious voice,
The look in your eye a fine rendition of feelings kept cryptic.
Composing words sung upon heart strings Under the gleam of street lights in a moving car,
Thinking of the year we were born, the longevity of a face like yours mixed with a face like mine.
Arranging life plans piece by piece in the gentle notes played by the throb of our hearts.
Musician, songwriter. Beautiful queen.
The beauty found when eyes close for a brief moment.
Listening to the song our heart plays at full volume.
Reliving the look in your eye.
Composing another time, another place.
Nothing compares to my favorite song.
To be continued next time we meet,
Musician, songwriter. Beautiful queen.

My heart took deep seat.
Relaxing in the comfort of plush cushion.
Neck twisted, head tucked comfortably in the nook of the chair.
A glass of water sitting on the edge of the coffee table next to the remote control.
T.V Turned low, movie charterers playing reverse roles.
Not every day does it have a chance to relax the way it does.
Rarely finding time to take a day off.
Legs dangling from the plush chair brought on sale.
My hearts face covered in the glow shone from the T.V.
Long stretched wrinkles finally at ease. Slumped over in the ease of relaxed eyebrows.
There my heart sits in comfort.
Dishes washed. Trash taken out.
Waiting for his wife to slide the key in the door.
After a long day's work

I opened her closed fingers.
Filling them with the open space of gaps between mine.
These things words could not say.
Still she remained my journal.
Always.
Even if we didn't know what to say.

Inside there lays a sort of guilt.
Insuring that the electric company does their job.
The only problem is most nights there is never anything worthwhile watching.
I often question the receptacle, the thought of changing cable providers.
I thought of saving myself, turning the tv off and going to sleep.
But where's the fun in that.
Watching colors run frantically across the screen.
The flick of a button brings a different hue.
A different click of the screen lock checking for notifications, plugging my phone back on the charge.
By passing all the channels at least twice before finding a show that fills the 30 minute gap.
The hard part of favorite shows is that most time they come on when either there's not enough time. Or someone spoils the ending.
Either way here I am looking for something to devote my time.
And here I am, seeking
Some kind of reassurance that you'll return after the infomercials.
My new favorite show.
You

I laid across your heart like a bed.
Secure, soaring through the air.
Goodbye to the linen I left back at home.
Stuck in an room.
I felt at ease.
My back falling splat into comfort.
An endless supply of sheets.
Laying in complete peace.
My every woe.
My every ache.
Thereby at the door.
There's nothing outside this moment.
Soon I will be sleep.
That's all left to do.
Snore.
A dream closer than the eye.
Sandman.
Stay where you are.
Away from me and my cache
made of heart.
I hope you don't mind that I've laid here.
Contouring to your every shape.
To lay away in this elation I have towards you.
I hope to catch more than a decent sleep.
My neck twisted left.
In a deep sleep in the contours of your heart

When we're high
We dance inside my head.
We dance in a way that we've never danced before.
You and I on a stage of collected thoughts.
Without fear how we move.
Without fear anyone watches.
We move in intrigue.
Without chairs or walls.
We dance among stars and eons of galaxies.
Your eyes trail the milky way.
Things otherwise complex.
Fully understood when we're high.
High off each other.
High off life.
You and I the experience of pulsating neon.
Swirling around and around.
The places we visit with a hop and a skip.
Your thighs a dress covered by stars,
Inside my head.
The place we go without fret.
Worry or fear.
Under the neon lights.
Every time I look at you.

I loved the honesty.
Netflix, chill then what.
I'd love to unfold you all night.
A reiteration of
Laying on our backs
No longer hesitant.
No longer ignorant.
Transcending the labels we both  keep inside.
Suggesting that there's more to appearance.
Standing in the chills of liberation.
We soon were caught in
Organized noise
Lost in flims of smoke
All night long.
Shall we roll another or two.
If I told you right then whose wrong,
Two separate interpretations.
Each to send tremors of truth of what's really happened.
Netflix waits in response
Mahogany fingertips.
Intellectual stimulation.
**** I forgot errythang I was supposed to be doing.
I concur wholeheartedly with this unexpected attraction.
The television a distraction.
Current circumstances.
Thinking about you
Open invitation

In the depth of her eye there is a city that begs to be explored.
A spark of curiosity hidden beneath the patter of millions of feet.

The journey of how one step, leads into a million thoughts.
Each person a developing personality all of her own.
Time has no meaning here.
There is no swiftness, no haste where anyone has a deadline to meet.
A specific place to be.

The pounding of feet hitting the pavement.

The sound of her heart.

With lips soft and gentle.

It goes unseen.

This city that hides in the spark of her eye.

This gleam of  light flickering in the skyline.

The view is just amazing.

There is never a wrong time to come out and enjoy the view.

The people here are amazing.

They always welcome me with a warm smile and a place to sit.

A metropolis full of fashion, living and breathing.

What I love most.

Is that I always feel like I am at home.

Whenever I stop by for a visit

The last time they crossed paths
A peculiar question came about;
Hesitant the time it took for eyes to adjust to silence
Both intent with reply
Adjusting their posture
Breathing in a moment where they could just shut the **** up and be themselves.
The rare moments that literally scream,
No white out to blur the moment
No scratches from a pen to take away from the moment.
With the calendar of her days filled she marked tonight as joyous
A break from work an over exhausted day full of social texts
The riot of voices in her head
Having to fill the slack of that one chick whom called in today
It just felt good to take a break from everything
Relieved in the comfort of his presence
Highlighting tonight with an Orange highlighter
Not remembering the last time she's been so excited.
Time heals all wounds, clothes only conceal them until comfort flaunts about
The jitters of finding something you've always dreamt about,
Savoring each piece of tape, carefully unfolding each article of clothing like gift wrap
Treating tonight as Her birthday
Manic, the way they talked into the night
time slipping gently through their fingers
Arms reach of each other
The night not truly beginning until the blush of her skin
What is the true value of time
The murmur of a joke that only the silence around them understands
A language only bodies understood
Breathing but not understanding the gist of why each breath occurs
Exhaling to inhale the scent of each other
The closure felt from the last moment they saw each other
The closure of lips filled the gap between their bottom lip
The pain of lovers past uncovered, healed
He became the remedy of weary knees
Miles away from the reality of lonely bed sheets and the flicker of light from the television screen
Choosing to fall for imperfection instead of the perfection the world sought
But never knew

When I first met you
I didn't know for sure but
I felt that your lips were the door
to a new home.

I loved the way you said hey,
There was something so comforting
about how you said it.
The way I immediately felt at ease.
My feet planted towards yours.
My knocks on the door waiting to be
answered.
My eyes neighboring yours
through the window of your eyes.
I didn't know for sure but I felt that you
were home.
Home in the sense of being close to
you.
Home in the sense of your lips
being the welcome mat
that introduces me to your smile.
home in the sense of being close
to you.
home in the sense of where ever I go you are there.

My eyes no longer neighboring yours.
But instead learning to see the world
through your eyes

I'll light every
Firework that I can find
For you.
Every ounce of you,
Including the parts
That you like to hide.
They deserve to be seen
And heard too.

The next second
Not to mention the next year
Isn't promised.
Although not the same
As overseas,
There is still reason to celebrate
The crackle of firecrackers,
The release of red lanterns,
To light the street of your heart,
As well as the sky.

We're not as young as we
Used to be.
But that doesn't mean that we have
To act like it.
The fire that courses
Through my lungs can't wait
To get out and roar
Like a dragon,
And break the silence
In celebration.

A red envelope wrapped in fire,
And sealed with the flash
Of prosperous smiles.
Every time I see you,
It feels like New Year's.
And when you kiss me,
My soul sizzles,
Stirring up this fire
That dances through my body.

The next second
Not to mention the next year
Isn't promised.
Tomorrow may not come.
If there ever was a time
To burn down and sweep up
Pieces of our old selves,
Why wait?

She moved about as the sea
And I the shore she'd visit every so often.
Each grain moist with infatuation.
I wish she'd stay a bit longer.
Kissing above her eye.
A paradise unfolded between our every caress.
Filling the gaps of when I missed her most.
Splashing against the shore.
Finding endless bliss in the current of the wind.
Taking a piece of me whenever she'd leave
Until next time

I tripped over love
Losing my balance twice,
Maybe the next time

And like the night breeze
Her love comes quietly, patiently.
A breeze spoke soft between her lips
Softly rapping on my ears.
And like the calm of the breeze
I am at pleasant thought
Lost in ultimate stillness.
No matter the amount of noise from the rest of the world
Nothing could interrupt this peace of mind.
Her love the night breeze coming as a quiet hush
And I, ever so thankful for the amount of calm that follows.
The rest of the world slowly swallowed by peace
If for but a moment.
Everything makes sense.
Until that moment I never really noticed
How often this breeze would come.
Until that moment I never really noticed
that some nights this breeze rarely comes

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

And that is your niche I told her.
Finding all things lost.
If I were to swallow ten thousand puzzle pieces.
Each belonging to a different size.
A different color.
No matter how I hide them.
I have perfect faith that you will find each piece.
That's just what you do.
There is no hiding any part of me.
With the slightest look.
The slightest word.
You immediately know what's on my mind
and I love it.
Arranging my every thought to where you see best.
It's really a no brainer
Finding where I belong

There's no full moon tonight baby.
That ole train is steadily rolling on by
Rolling on into the night.
When I watched the news tonight baby
they promised me my moon
would be full.
No sign of rain, clear skies all night long.
That's what they said.
Where in the world am I suppose to go
On a night like this.
Knowing my moon ain't full.
Packed it's bags and gone.
Gone away at least for the night.
One last glimpse before your gone for good.
That ole train steadily rolling on by baby.
Nothing but storm clouds and the smell of rain
Done packed your bag and gone away.
My sky never been this empty.
Half dark twinkles and rain rolling down my window.
There's no full moon tonight baby
Done packed your bag and gone.
Gone away

Sometimes something as simple as a look can hurt us.
It's so easy to get caught up in a moment of temporary happiness.
The truth seems so far from the place we'd rather be.
Eventually we become blinded by that
Which we know will eventually hurt us.
When in reality, what we truly want
Is for someone to hold our hand &
Tell us that everything will be alright.
It breaks our heart and tears us apart,
Something so simple as a look.
We allow ourselves to hear and see what we want,
But when that split second is gone
& there is no one else around to help
Us from finally glancing in that direction.
Something so simple as a look hurts us
More than we could ever imagine.
We never realize that we deserve more
Than we allow ourselves to have until we have no choice to let go and accept
What we can no longer see

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