i just wanted you to know
that I've been reading your poems
your stories
your heart
and I too
bleed for these words
like you
and I hope
you read mine too
when your heart
seek for words

i think we still exist
somewhere in the universe
behind the sun
where all of earth’s abandoned
soulmates go to rest
i think i can see us
when i look up at the sky
and squint directly into
the rays of light,
your brown eyes burning
into mine

i think we are together
in the time that trails behind
the present, dancing
in circles until the last stars
fizzle out

i think that our promises
seeped into the soil, like
february rain, our souls sown
together, tucked in
beneath the world

i think what we had is
somewhere just out of reach,
pulsing in the dim spaces
between heat lightning

and although, in this lifetime,
we became nothing but shadows,
monsters that linger on bedroom walls

we are there, we are alive,
and we are still in love.

Everyone sat
criss-cross-applesauce
in our hearts.
Perfume is made
with dead things, right?

I try hard to sound
important,
when I write *******
because
there are bodies
reading this *******.

And bodies grow and wither.
They thrive and survive.
They get married
and die alone.
They die.

To become dead.

Perfume is made
with dead things, right?

The tent fly
flapped
in the
Arizona dream.

I fell out
of the door.
Saying,
"I should be
dead soon."

My bleeding feet
stained the
brown sugar sand.

And God
was everywhere;
in my cuts.
In me.
In us.

And God
was nowhere;
absent-hearted-
blood-kissed-
consciousness.

My hands gripped
at the cheeks
bordering thin lips.
I kissed the
Arizona dream
as if it were
my own.

If it were my own.
If you were my own.

You're not in love,
you just like
entertainment.
Blood boiling,
tense muscles
put your mind
at ease.

You're not kissing,
you just like
the gesture of hope:
the softer the lips
the harder it is
to walk away.

You quote their texts
like you're quoting
scripture.
The tweets you study
cause your heart
to freeze.

You're like a god
without a people:
You're looking
for anyone
to believe
in you.

I dreamt about
a ****** t.v.
movie.
I put myself
in a lover's shoes.
I said, "You're
not that lonely
but you like
the attention.
And I guess
I'd like to
give it
to you."

Her voice is strained.
Her skin is fair.
Her ******* lay on the countertop.
I **** her until my thoughts stop.

She rejects the notion of love for all,
as she leans against my kitchen wall,
with a cigarette and an unbuttoned blouse-
she wants to be homeless in my house.

She keeps me in her necklace's locket,
and I keep her in the wallet in my pocket.
Her toes kiss the linoleum,
she walks like she's made of helium.

She mumbles that I taste like mint chocolate chip,
as she rubs against my hip.
Her breath smells like Malboro Lights,
and I hope she decides to stay the night.

Milky Ways and Vanilla Cakes,
she likes the way my body shakes,
as we lay and eat our troubles away.
Hurried words slow the day.

She asks me about my stretch marks and scars,
and if I've ever been hit by a car.
And I say no, but I've been hit by love before,
and it feels like getting your hand caught in a door.

Hurried smiles and bathroom stalls,
she likes the way my family never calls.
The words escape between her plump lips,
as my hand travels between her hips.

We move until we forget
that the world is moving faster.

I should have to peel you off of me, but instead i'm trying to hold on to the remains of you.
Every last piece of you.
All of you.
I want your fingers running down my spine, your hands holding me, you loving me.
But your mind is somewhere else, your hear is with someone else.
Does she love you? Better than i could.
Does she make you feel good? Better than i could.
Because i adored you, all of you.
She has to peel you off of her, i have to hold on to the remains of you.
Every last piece of you.
All of you.
And i cannot let go of you, because if i don't i will never get you back.