I boarded her heart.
Careful to follow the politics of comfort.
Too much weight on either side & We'll surely panic.
Tumbling down.
Spiraling out of control.
I packed light.
Finding everything I need on board.
I enjoyed my window seat.
Being her passenger.
The pleasantries of flying first class.
The view of a different country.
The tedious flutters of anticipation.
Constantly aroused by the exploration of beating hearts.
Continuing to see ourselves in reflection.
Flying destination after destination.
Going here, going there
Non stop.
If ever we should crash.
I'll live knowing this was the best flight I've known.
Light in heart.
Parachute untouched

For each of the numbers printed on her face,
I counted each of them for every second that passed.
Three long arms that reached around eclipsing themselves.
One painted red in reflection of how fast my heart would beat.
Counting each mark that filled the gap of each bold number.
Counting down from the twelve o'clock hour. Reaching twelve again.
I fell in love. A continuing loop of numbers falling face forward then back around.
Seeing everything that I may have missed the first time around.
The sights already seen becoming more precious. Both of us together, close as breath.
A plastic case protecting us from hesitation, how long it would take to pass again.
The revolution of seconds it would take, orbiting my world for the millionth first time.
I didn't care that she painted her stars black and an infinite space around white.
For the first time this would be the closest that I would ever come to the ethereal experience
that I'd feel to be eternity.
For the millionth first time

In the crease of her fingers
Is where she held me.
A history of thought,
Filtered.
Flaked off at the end.
It was her fingers I felt most comfortable.
That I could truly do anything.
Stuck between her middle and pointer finger.
Held high, upright.
Unprecedented in eclipse.
She'd press me to her lips.
Resuscitated.
Flaked at the tip.
Scatter ash
Where I felt most alive.
Nestled in the bend of her fingers.
My building without escape.
She'd set fire to my head.
& like a mad man I'd lay still.
This smoke, a place I wanted to be.
Our bad habit persisting
Day in and day out.
The only fact perhaps we truly have.
I'd unravel in loss of responsibility,
The nook of her fingers,
A universal sense of comfort.
Withered down.
Tossed to the wind.
Our history made short,
Recognizing that we were doomed from the start.
Smoking in front of the no smoking sign,
A habit we can't put down

Some nights it would rain.
And in the comfort of solace I'd get up.
Grab my shoes, my coat and head straight to where
I felt most comfrtable.
Though this place near.
Not too many knew about it.
I'd go straight to her heart and comfort her during the storm.
It was something different about it.
Her heart.
Meeting her near and dear.
To bring her comfort put me at ease.
It's not that she needed or required company.
But deep down I felt at peace.
Watching the sky ignite every so often.
Igniting our hidden passion.
Our eyes the closest thing to a telescope.
We reminded each other how we should feel.
Our turns smiling and laughing.
Often times I'd forget the rain completely.
Becoming drenched in the patter of her heart.
In the end all we'd know was silence.
Coming to terms in our own agreeance.
The further apart she wanted to be, the closer we actually became.
Even now she kisses me in silence.
Not a cloud in sight.

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

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

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

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

The choice to stop was mine.
The addiction itself was a different story.
Doctors don't write prescriptions for this kind of stuff.
The cold sweats associated with anger.
The beginning is the hardest part.
Admitting temptation.
I was addicted.
The situation had ended but I kept obsessing.
Knowingly risking health.
The way you feel, the way you taste.
I couldn't afford to lose you as well as myself in the process.
Properly insuring another substance for another.
The cost of Medicare.
It was my decision, my choice.
Your voice a constant peer pressure of finding bliss.
If only for a minute.
At some point I ignored my own voice.
Reaching for you again.
I acknowledge that it was my responsibility.
Blaming everything around me, even you.
In this brief moment, common sense wasn't so common.
Not anymore.
Forgetting that actions have consequences.
For every second I ignore you.
You whine, you cry.
Becoming my chronic illness.
The enabler to what ever complaint.
It's hard to quit.
Finding every excuse except the right one.
She was the highway.
I was the traveler.
Weary in search of exit.
This road becoming longer and longer.
The lights becoming more and more distant.
Each exit in-between stops having fewer establishments.
Additional signs appearing with more temptation.
The cold sweats are back, this anxiousness to reach for something that I know isn't there.
This addiction to hold you, crave you, taste you.
This urge to love you as much as I did.
This persistent itch that I can't live without you.
Doctors don't write prescriptions for this kind of stuff.
The warning labels causing more harm than good.
Reminiscing on times that I shouldn't.
The choice to stop was mine.
To love someone that doesn't love you back

Watching a drop of rain.
I thought I'd drown in a lifetime of eternal bliss.
Falling fast. I caught the drop unexpectedly on my face.
Feeling instant relief from the thoughts that pursued everlasting bliss.
A gratification that transcends the smallest of pleasure.
Standing about,
Tasting a single drop that splashed against my face.
I felt a slight relief, satisfied with a small ounce of silence.
Not a puddle, not an ocean.
But a drop of rain soon scattered into a million more.
Knowing only one direction. It fell.
I watched an overcast drag across the sky with dire urge to be felt.
Caught in need I stood waiting, sharing eternal agony.
A mere drop to cleanse what I felt in anticipation to fill the gap of patience.
Still I stand. Without need to go anywhere else.
Waiting for the precipitation of love
To fall hard and fast in one single drop that feels like a million more

When I am with you
The sun shines it’s absolute brightest.
Not a single cloud in the sky.
No matter what side of town we’re on,
No matter what we do.
All I see is clear skies, no matter what
they say.
Even if it does, so what.
I am with you.
My own personal parade, beautiful
In every way.
When you walk pass, everyone &
Everything stops.
Pretty brass skin, your voice smooth
As silk.
When I am with you, the sun shines
It’s absolute brightest & I am at ease.
The best part of the day,
No matter what side of town,
No matter what we wear.
The sun shines it’s absolute best
When we’re together.
Not a single drop of rain comes to mind,
Not a single drop

Conversations can occur in many ways.
Many the conception of one thing, used to justify another.
It tends to happen more commonly if not at all.
A certain honesty revealed.
In the consideration of intimacy
Without coming across as too overbearing.
Yet we place blame on ourselves for not revealing how we truly feel,
Sometimes trapping ourself in the thought of someone else's happiness.
Obvious truths overlooked when the normal reaction is the total opposite.
The latter, already knowing how we'd like to be valued, received.
We express ourselves the same way.
Not truly knowing how it's to be received.
Obvious truths automatically assumed when true intention is revealed.
Instead we seek validation through a smile, a laugh.
Part of ourself hidden.
A habit of not wanting to project what we feel we lack.
Overvalued on whether or not happiness is then assumed,
Instead of saying how we truly feel.
We normally put ourselves on hold.
Fearing that our mouths may differ in opinion,
that how we truly feel.
May not be what the other person expects, or wants to hear.
Further putting ourselves at confrontation with what we truly feel.
Not truly knowing the risk that comes with how much we truly love
And how much sacrifice is required.
How often we express our likes and dislikes
How often do they go ignored
Yet we place blame on ourselves for not revealing how we truly feel

Unapologetically, I eased into a deep sleep
Head leaned back against the head rest of an small plane.
Not a single thought occurred outside of certain excitement
The sight of ordinary things seen from a totally new perspective.
Carry on stored overhead

 

The opening of eyes, a brighter hue now taking to the horizon
Wandering across the sky.
I eased into a deep sleep anticipating a gush of wind sweeping through my hair
caressing my face between the turbulence of things imagined staring from a window seat.
Shutter half closed, first class flight.
The sun peaking through an opening of clouds venturing somewhere That I've never been.

 

I eased back into a deep sleep, watching the sun through closed eyes
Extra color seen through an already perfect jitter.
To overcome a fear of flying,
The anticipation of seeing the horizon from this side of the world,
Her world. An affair of perfect height
Unapologetically I woke up inbound, heading fast towards the landing strip.
Seat belt sign now a bright red. Blending perfectly into the view of the horizon.
Welcomed open armed to plight of her heart

She is a Goddess held upright
In the light.
Her face shines blossoming among the clouds.
The words she speaks are of lyrical proportion.
Her body is a temple of sheer devotion,
One whom I worship. Yearning to protect.
She shines her light upon me,
Revealing the inner working of her mind.
The hieroglyphics and pamphlets deciphered by gentle lips.
Shes not just another girl nor another woman.
Her crown is woven above her brow, easily mistaken as hair.
Her influence knows no bound.
Devouring every inch of my thought.
Her voice is infinite,
Her soul dances as a child knowing the beauty of outside.
She is a Goddess of love, one of infinite wisdom.
Her sighs are one with the wind.
Spreading throughout the whispers of her voice.
Filling my dreams with the lucidity of open eyes.
I close my eyes and see her standing there.
I smile, picturing her soul dance as freely as a child knowing the beauty of being outside.
If only she knew what I saw everytime I looked at her

I fear the day I call
and hear
the "number you're trying to call"
message.
Your voice a sense of comfort
when home seems so far.
The freedom you enable when
theres no way to control the excitement
of hearing your voice.
Knowing that your just a call away.
Your voice
a prescription cough syrup
and I behave as such.
Smiling as soon as I hear it.
Knowing that soon I'll feel much better.
Only you can give me this feeling
Only you can cause such devastation

On a distant shore
I travel to you
I've twisted the top off my head
& filled it with thoughts of you
For safe keeping.
If by chance you hear my voice
While you read them.
You'll know they were meant for you.
If by chance they stretch cross
The lake of your womb
You'll know that a part of me
Will always reside in you.
I slouch in excitement
The only container I know.
An octopus trapped in a bottle
Your breath a taste of freedom

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

I had this incredible itch in my ear
To much dismay everywhere I looked I couldn't find a Q-tip.
My fingers were much to big to reach in and grant any kind of relief.
It just happened out of nowhere, this incredible irritation.
The longer it went on, the more irritating it became.
If it were anything else I wouldn't have considered it a blessing, then there it was.
A Q-tip. Laying on the bathroom counter.
All my life I never thought I'd be so happy to see a Q-tip.
In much delight I grabbed it and inserted it into my ear.
Almost teasing myself first going around my ear then sliding it into my ear-hole.
Twisting it left then right, eyes rolling back.
If you could feel exactly how I did. Reaching that one itch that would drive a sane man mad.
Any amount of money, hell even *** at that point wouldn't do any justice.
Twisting that Q-tip left then right.
I couldn't help but smile.
It wasn't until I pulled the Q-tip out of my ear when I saw a note attached to the end of it.
Wrote in real fine lettering.
I had to squint to read it.
Although I couldn't completely make half of it out, the last part was clear as day.
Out of curiosity. I laughed grabbing the other end of the Q-tip placing it back in my ear.
This time I felt a real sharp pain accompanied by a loud sound.
I instantly threw the Q-tip to the ground.
It didn't make sense to me then, maybe not ever.
But next time I know.
Never disturb a Minotaur while he is trimming the hedge in his labyrinth.
Especially after being warned the first time

Your body is a vacation, the perfect
spot to getaway.
Over the mound of your thigh the sun is
high & the fun has yet to begin.
I love how your skin feels between my hands.
How small you make everything around feel.
I apologize for putting you off for so long.
A year or two from now, I won't regret
how fast I packed my bag & left to
come visit.
A year or two from now, I'll tell everyone my favorite place to vacate.
How easy the language was to learn,
To bathe in the sun of your smile &
splash in the ocean of your body.
The weather is always perfect,
The adventures that await beneath your dress.
I apologize for putting you off for so
long.
A year or two from now, I'll still remember the smell of fresh peaches,
Served in thick nectar.
Compliments of being the perfect guest, the first to check in &
the last to leave.
Still viewing the sights, things that'll
last twenty years from now, without
hesitation or worry.
The only thing left to unpack is you
& Memories of you

We stood in the dark
Not a word spoke between us two.
We hardly knew each other yet,
We saw each other whole hearted.
The stars began to light up.
The moon above our heads.
Our eyes half full.
Anticipation.
A civilization coming to life in the blink of an eye.
With millions of thoughts going on.
All that separates is the simplicity of hello.
The interior of our souls bright to see.
The clouds like weeds.
Once removed life begins anew.
Slowly descending the depth of truth.
The groping of eyes accented by arch.
Another world awaits the simplicity of hello.
To smile again and again just as the stars.
The spread of influence

There's always something that
reminds you of home.
A certain something,
A certain feel.
A certain someone that's become
A joyous lifetime of longevity.
The genius of violins & stringed
orchestra.
No matter where you go,
There's always something day by day.
No matter what's going on or
How old you feel,
This certain something that makes us
feel young again,
Whatever it may be.
There's always something that
reminds you of home, & for me.
You just happen to be that certain
something.
The second, first, all the way to infinity
thing I want to do.
The only place I really want to go.
No matter what's going on or
Who's around.
A place to call home,
A place to return to,
A place I can't wait to get back to.
You are that something, the fire
That crackles in the fireplace of my
eye.
The lock & key that makes me feel safe
and secure.
No matter where I go, I carry a piece of
you with me, always.
A piece of me I can't wait to get back
to,
& That's home

Call it women’s intuition—
but she knows the power of silence,
how to bend you to her will,
whether she’s calm or not.
Eventually, you’ll crack,
if given enough time.
Trying to figure out what’s wrong,
following her from room to room,
asking question after question—
whether you’re crazy now
or crazy later,
it’s soon to happen.
Oddly enough,
the various cigarette and liquor companies
profit from her silence—
the way, even at your best,
it still finds a way to get your attention.
Even if you manage to block her out,
bringing it up at another time is just an argument.
It’s best to take a minute and get yourself together.
no matter what you do.
You can’t trust the way she stares,
you can’t trust the way she laughs.
It’s all a trap.
You won’t realize it until it’s too late.
Through her messiness,
through her beauty,
through her chaos,
She just wants to see how you’ll react,
if you’ll reach for her,
even when she’s right in front of you

Old songs are like
A prayer; no matter the length
Of time.
No matter how long or short.
They dance.
They dance regardless of who's
Around & accept your invitation
Without you knowing.
Just when you forget.
They tap you on the shoulder &
Give you something to smile about.
Old songs are like a dancehall that scream
In silence and fill the empty with hope.
Regardless of how you felt before.
Old songs are like the remedy to the old
Person in your head who finally feels the urge
to dance again

I once asked
Do you love me,
To which I knew the answer
before her reply,
Covered in skin
Sat next to my heart.
And instead
Took it away from me

One of my favorite things about you Is the fact that I still get butterflies whenever you are near.
Don't mistake my silence as a means to push you away or the fact that
I don't have anything to say.
It's just that I am still in complete awe.
That fluid motion that doesn't complicate anything.
That selfishness that has lost track of exactly where our kisses have landed.
But still craves to have more to compensate where the others have went.
That somewhat nervous jitter that occurs with the slightest touch.
Your mouth crashing against mine.
Lost in a tidal wave of tongues.
Cheeks relaxed in steady current.
There is nothing gentle about how well we conduct ourselves, except in the calm before the storm.
A floodgate of teeth raising in euphoria.
Releasing the echo of emotion felt from one body to the next.
A complete unison of waves lost in gentle current.
Our eyes closed in search of the light seen across the wave of tongues.
Watching it fade to black, soon to reappear.
The light that flashes behind our eyes.
An eclipse of heads following each others motion.
Our ears like seashells, resting along the coast of us.
Hearing the sounds, cleansed in the current of waves.
This wave that longs to be near you.
The complete awe of becoming apart of something more than what's presented.
Although expressed physically.
This depth of emotion swims in schools of love.

Maybe I love her more.
Then again maybe she loves me more.
To her love is a test.
I know I've missed my share of answers.
I looked at the clock.
Knowing I need to take my time but can't slow down.
In a time I couldn't think she hid my calculator.
Telling me to use my fingers.
I knew the answers, I used them everyday.
Maybe I love her more because I studied.
Then again maybe she loves me more because it was a pop quiz.
But thats ok, because it was open book.

Motivation to love you better

In the very same emotion that's broken my heart.
I have found smile in the replacement of grief.
Of all things pretty.
Your smile is still one that heals all pain.
As the moment currently stands.
To fully understand your opinion.
For the moment I am open & free.
Perhaps more than I have ever been.
Your smile being saving grace.
The wind against my face in a moment of stillness.
In the very same emotion. Your smile the most beautiful scar I'd ever remember.
Not at all ugly or painful reminder.
But a time I forgave.
Her smile the biggest contributor

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

Loving you is like driving
In an open lane.
There are no distractions,
No other obstacles.
Long as I am with you
everything is fine.
Loving you is like having
the radio blast your voice
through the speakers.
Your arms the seat belt that
fits snug around me
Protecting me from ****** harm.
The quirk of your smile
dangling from the air freshener
above.
Loving you is like driving
In an open lane & my lips
are the bumper to the outer edge
of my heart.
My lips follow the guideline
of the lane.
Trailing each curve of the road.
Loving you is like driving
with no destination in mind.
Just as long as I am with you

Perfectly observant,
We share the same exact struggle.
Perfectly normal,
A conversation with all but one subject.
Eyes that refer to the category
Of deep need.
Apologies do no justice.
Unpeeled oranges that sit in wait.
Guilty at first glance, suppressing true desire without a word.
Wanting to unravel- peel away at things kept from view.
Mistaking ears for a heart.
Just what are we observant of,
Have we become profound.
A perception seen but not heard
Are we that oblivious.
Selective, inconsistent.
Following our hearts through unspoken lips.
Soiled in the thought of need.
Was I ever ready to speak,
Needing, urging.-
What is it that you are trying to say,
I feel that this is us.
The priority of a first thought,
Overcoming all else.
Every day, a basket of oranges
In arms reach- woven together
In deep thought.
Beauty is only skin deep.
Spoiled by the nectar of lips

With rough hands, she was the only thing that made them soft.
New experiences protected by their roughness.
The orbit of her body their center.
They kept her safe.
She admired their scars.
Their courage to love as they did.
To properly deflect the asteroids that threatened her orbit.
To hold a fire such as she.
Their standards high, lifting her high above.
An explicable star shooting across the sky.
With hands like a fortress.
They cherished every sunrise of her smile.
For all that she is.
She is blissfully unaware

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

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.

Today without question
I placed myself in a glass jar filled with you.
With no way of closing the jar I left the lid undone,
Already beginning to sink
I watched you ooze out, spilling against the sides.
I sat puzzled as I sunk to the bottom.
Reaching watching those familiar parts of you slip through my fingers.
There was no way I could recover the parts of you dripping to the outer bottom of the jar.
Never once did I think to breathe

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

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

To love you comes as an unconditional force that I cannot explain.
You touch all the parts of me that I myself cannot see.
They look to you as you make them that much better.
I love you in the full extent of every chance I get.
And every single chance after that.
There is no such excuse as to why I cannot.
We converse through action more than lips.
Make no mistake in the way that I use these words or the way my body reminds you.
I love to color you in not just the ways that I see you.
But in all the ways you see yourself.
To teach, encourage, praise and inspire in all the ways of color.
For without you this emotion that dictates life or death would have no reason to exist.
To respect your existence with every smile.
To reach out and grab your hand reminding you that you are needed.
You inspire me as unconditionally as I inspire you.
This thing, love
Blossoms in deep shades of red
Outside the boundaries of lines

I think I am falling but don't really know
how to vocalize it.
I think I am falling like the shirt that reveals your shoulder.
I've revealed parts of myself no one knows.
A thin layer exposing true desire.
Opposed to you picking out something to wear,
even if it's just to take right back off.
I've given your face my stare to do with what you please.
My stare trailing your eyes, your nose.
I've ordered from the menu of your lips, casually staring
spending time with you.
I think I am falling, becoming more envious of the shirt
that hangs from your shoulder,
How I'd love to trade places. Being that much closer to you.
To your heart. At arms reach whenever you'd prefer.
To match your shoes, your purse.
Or just when you need comfort.
I think I am falling.
I think I have fallen with no place to land but on top of you
in seasonal bliss.
To be stretched & worn at least one day out the week.
My lips a loose fitting collar sliding kisses between your shoulder,
your collar bone.
I think I've fallen & can't pick myself up
I think I've fallen over you

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

Far away from here
I lay in the deepest corner of your mind.
I've packed my bags
in search of the many times
you've kissed the air.
The new sights and events
seen through your eyes.
I packed light
knowing the most essential thing
was reaching at least one of a million
of your passed thoughts.
Far away from here,
I've missed you so much.
When I close my eyes
I am there with you.
I packed light knowing that my favorite
everything resides where you are

I adore you
More than I could have ever thought.
When time runs short & you have to go.
I say a prayer to myself, let us stay this way.
We have a lot in common and so much more to discover.
Regardless of what you tell me
You are all to perfect.
In times of anger I grit my teeth but look to you
for the same answers I seek.
The moments we lose sight of clarity and begin
to hate one another.
With you in my arms, only then are things clear.
The way you look at me.
The things we share.
Without doubt.
I have won an all expense paid vacation.
Every time you laugh.
Every time you smile.
The food I eat.
To everything I drink.
To see all of you even at times we become short at each other.
I am living my wildest dream
When I am with you

Love, such an abstract thing.
Spread across a canvas.
Made seen by the help of brush bristles.
A vivid depiction of clear bottles made a mess.
I hope your not afraid of painting with ***** hands.
The feel of paint staining clean hands.
Here.
No one is innocent.
Not even the canvas which is neither seen nor heard

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

Beneath your womanly exterior lays a girl.
A girl thats cuddled up nice and warm in her bed.
If I could find big enough paper.
I'd roll you up until it stopped just above your stomach.
Leaving your arms and face free.
So you could rise your arms and smile like the flower you are.
When planted, flowers don't know how precious they are.
But they know they serve a divine purpose.
Just keep blossoming that beautiful smile and all the rest will reveal itself.
I wrapped your legs in paper so you wouldn't be constricted in anyway.
As well so I could find you whenever times get hard.
Also because I thought it would be funny.
But on a serious note.
You work hard enough as it is.
So while your stuck trying to figure your way out of your paper stem, I'll gladly bring you as many glasses of water it takes to water your roots.
I'm not sure how you feel about wet feet.
But it will gladly help you kick your way out of your paper stem.
That way I won't have to pick a flower I admire very much.
You could visit me just as I visit you.
Probably after kicking my *** for wrapping you in paper

At times it gets hard to talk.
Instead of rambling about anything.
Most times I sit without saying a word.
Just sitting in thought.
Most times different conclusions are drawn.
This at all doesn't mean that anything is wrong.
Sitting in silence.

Admiring the space around.
Different noises are heard.
Finding their way between the lines.
Indented in brief moments.

Spurts of randomness.

Wadded up thrown to the side to make room for the next moment.

Often left blank.

Without a single use of expression.

Without a trail of lead or ink.

Just empty lines stacked and spread across a thin layer of cardboard.

An bent aluminum spine.

All stacked up waiting for a love worthy of notation.

Signatures of fluttering pages.

Familiar names and phrases.

Blank pages filled up in a parade of paragraphs.

If you listen close you'll hear the band tuning up.

Marching down empty lanes marked just for the occasion.

Inside there are large bold words filled with tubas and small lines felt with the mark of snares.

The procession of pen to paper.

In proclamation to one of the greatest loves ever found.

Sold in two different packages.

All in perfect silence as they travel down the same lane

There I was standing above her top lip,
I waited for the first sign of when they'd open again.
I never parachuted before and figured that it'll be fun.
Parachuting into each word that came from her mouth.
Then came my chance.
Soon as she spoke I leaped off her top lip face first.
I couldn't begin to explain how I felt,
Closing my eyes.
Feeling her breath caress the sides of my face.
Never having done this before I didnt know exactly when to pull the shoot.
Instead I fell.
I fell perhaps farther than I ever could have imagined.
Clinging on to every word that came from the lips I've grown to love.
From every book I've read it was understood that love was kind, patient.
Never at all was it suppose to hurt.
And here I am.
Plummeting to my death with a parachute that I had no idea how to open

Your beautiful.
Everywhere I look is paradise.
I thought of moving there.
Closer to you.
For sure, sometime next year.
Today, tomorrow.
Sometimes I miss it.
This glorious overhead view.
A bucket list dream come true.
A place that takes my breath in slow pace.
I wanna go so bad.
This place of senrenity.
This place of peace.
Everywhere I look is paradise.
I've been told Tuesdays aren't bad times to fly.
Head in the clouds.
The sunset of your eyes.
Discovering a love like yours.
Paradise in the blink of an eye.
For sure sometime next year.
Today, tomorrow

We've torn down buildings, and built new ones
Yet we have no foundation.
We are illiterate to what we truly feel and breathe unless,
It is seen else where first.
It too is a reality that we've created.
This feeling that can only be described in Braille.
We too are restricted.
These bumps that go unnoticed.
The mumps in the crevice we band aid until it's too late.
We continue to tear down these fortresses of ourselves.
What concerns most is that I see myself in you.
The same love and laugh that become the building blocks that haults the storm.
Yet we reject each other due to the mentality of our environment.
With lack of understanding,
We fail to embrace choosing the cause and effect of all differential.
We seek to destroy forgetting what's important.
We work against each other doing more damage that good.
We need each other to further emancipation.
To build one another once this storm reaches peak.
As simple as it sounds it becomes more complex.
To build a new building on top shakey ground.
Everything must be cleared out.
The participation of presence

In urgent call.
The door opens by elegant wrist.
Her lashes close.
Soft beads of water fresh out the shower.
Made glorious, covering me.
Her scent the tip of my nose.
Every wrong made right.
Sweetened cocoa butter, the hint of mango.
Artesian painting reflects us.
Offering safe passage from tongue to lips.
Open, the taste of delicate skin.
The fragrance of all I'd need.
Seasoned by discovery.
The rediscovery of thought.
The towel drops.
Every breath a caress from which we grew.
A flower in bloom, ripe in unification.
Well soaked in eternal ache.
The artesian painting retouched by desire.
Consistently in the utmost obligation.
Undressed,
The passage of me to you

Sometimes,
Even the prettiest flower has it's days.
Sometimes the wind begins to be too much
Ruffling it's petals.

Not every day can be a pretty day,
Whether it be a rose, or a daisy.
Sometimes the sun can be hard to find in plain view.
Standing in watch, patiently waiting.
Sometimes hours, days.
Sometimes that feeling of regret sets in,
Those negative thoughts that seemingly come out of nowhere.
Still it isn't deterred.
Patience is Key
As a brigher day is closer than you think

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

In the morning her eyes paint the cities horizon.
Stretching and yawning.
Getting dressed; Her blue tapestry.
Opening the door to her apartment
She climbs down broken stairs.
It's payday Friday.
The mail man is late again.
Opening her box closing it right back.
She considers direct deposit,
Climbing back up those old creaks in the stairs.
To a notice on the door.
Excessive noise complaint
Rent past due