The rocky steps that lead to the sea
Were always a problem to climb
Always one careful step from a chaotic tumble
Into the misty void

And once the journey was made
Cold gray sand greeted me
Like a lonely desert
The horizon seeming father away

By chance id make it
To the edge of a frozen mouth
Already so drained of yellow life
Ready for the pain, the ice
To jolt me awake
To open my eyes to this grey sky

I would wait

Then hear your eerie whispers
Calling through the sea
The waves swelling, you
Would wrap your fingers around my ankles
I would breath out in relief

A fearful alertness, you were here
Your hair in the blue-grey sea foam
Your breath, the piercing wind
That slapped my cheeks

Your salty words, unsatisfying
Plugging my ears
Until all I hear are your letdowns
And fury.

The skies would darken, and
The swell would become greater
Until I open my mouth and scream
That I can’t take your bruises
And I can’t take my own delusions

But you have already started to pour down my lungs
Filling me with your ice and confusion
And I can see
All your doubts
And blackness
And overflowing emptiness

And I almost feel sorry, like I’ve failed you.
And I couldn’t help you
But I remembered,
You drowned me
With yourself.


-Taylor

My hope of returning one day
To see you face and then to say
“I miss you so now never go.”
Has never been far away
And now I wonder what could be
If only you could see
How much you mean to me
Across the land I must go
Now never to know
If I ever had the chance to be
Your one and only

I want a poet
between my thighs,
wicked tongue wrapped
in verse,
drive and provoke,
serenade
this dancing knot
of prose hidden here,
a hungry mound
saturated beneath a soft
cocoon of sweltering flesh,
suspended in expectation
inspired to spill forth
steaming compositions
sticky on his epic lips,
grinning.

And he’ll rise then
breathing a new stanza
onto my fragrant neck
“Sandalwood,” he’ll whisper
as he fills me with a new
refrain
emphatically taunts
my music
to sing down onto
his tightened fuse,
running rivulets spiraling
along his determined thighs,
crying out into his
listening ear,
a requiem so potent it
drips off the page
and becomes some reality.

When I made you, I loved you.
Now I pity you.

I gave you all you needed:
bed of earth, blanket of blue air--

As I get further away from you
I see you more clearly.
Your souls should have been immense by now,
not what they are,
small talking things--

I gave you every gift,
blue of the spring morning,
time you didn't know how to use--
you wanted more, the one gift
reserved for another creation.

Whatever you hoped,
you will not find yourselves in the garden,
among the growing plants.
Your lives are not circular like theirs:

your lives are the bird's flight
which begins and ends in stillness--
which begins and ends, in form echoing
this arc from the white birch
to the apple tree.

He likes joy girls,

The ones that spring upward in the wee hours
And smile because the sun is coming soon -
The ones that rise with the sun
And keep right on rising,
Even 'til the sun is setting -
Then they rise on
Into the night,

He likes girls with fluttering fingers
That tingle when they touch you -
Ones with round-eyed spirits
That peek out from the pockets of their irises.

He likes joy girls,

Those "sun-in-my-pocket" girls,
The skipping instead of walking,
The "I'm too tired of talking,
(I'd rather be off singing)"
Girls,

Girls with giggles so infectious
His frown can't help but slip-up,

He holds these girls the tightest to him
'cause his days look much too much like
The endings of,

Late October dusks.

Maybe it was weird that I didn’t move my hand

When it rested against yours

Or that I didn’t move my leg when our knees touched

Or that when we slept facing opposite directions

So we could share the same pillow

I pretended to be asleep when my lips touched your forehead

Just so we could be close a minute longer

I know I cry in my sleep

But you don’t have the same dreams I do

And you don’t have that awkward belief

That all people fit like puzzles if you press hard enough

What the hell do you think hugs are?

Or holding hands is?

I know I can’t accidentally fall into you

And sure

maybe it’s weird that I rub my socks into the carpet

With the sole purpose of shocking you

But how else do you make sparks fly?

I know that my life’s story is an open book I tell so well

My pages are shameless

And my words are honest

And yeah

I know I stare at your mouth when you speak

It’s just that

Eye contact freaks me out

And I’m sorry I spaced out while you were talking

It’s just that I was staring at your lips

And I suddenly wanted to kiss you

I know I have no filter

And am practiced in the art of bad timing

And poor explanations

But we’re only human

We only want simple things

Like to be needed by other humans

Go ahead

Need me like a parasite

I’ve already got so much excess baggage

The weight of your monkey on my back

Might as well be an anchor

Keeping me next to you

There should be dents in your memory foam by now

Pretty lady

There are dents in my cheeks from all the smiling you cause me

And I’m pretty sure you could light a match

From the heat in my face

So I am sorry if I can get a little creepy

It just means I like you