And as he sat alone in his room, he felt bitter remorse. Who is it that he hates? Himself, or God?
Maybe he'll die someday and remember what it felt like to be human, but until that day comes, he's nothing but a parasite.

I've yet to meet another human such as yourself,
All other that I came to love at some point in time came a dime a dozen. I knew it then, I know it now.

But those days where you held my hand sparks did not fly, no. Tectonic plates crashed within my veins, sending quakes straight into my aorta and stopped my heart until the day you kissed my nose, my innards grew from bone, skin, muscle. To bark, leaves, and flowers.
Not only did you revitalize the heart you stopped but made it something so much more beautiful, a bleeding heart, just like the ones that grew outside my window when I was little.

And when I learned the kind of person you chose over me after months of gentle sun and careful watering I felt my lungs collapse and all I want to do with these useless sacks is drown them with rocks and try to relive the rumbling you once put in them with the smallest of gestures that obviously meant so much more than meant, because to sleep at night I need to tell myself my love for you is a **** and will consume all if gone unrequited. But when our skin touches or when my eyes meet the gleaming grin of such a work of art I feel a black hole in my chest for this desire will swallow up my stars and I want to never love again because you are the end game, my end game.

III
Slim adolescence that a nymph has stripped,
Peleus on Thetis stares.
Her limbs are delicate as an eyelid,
Love has blinded him with tears;
But Thetis' belly listens.
Down the mountain walls
From where pan's cavern is
Intolerable music falls.
Foul goat-head, brutal arm appear,
Belly, shoulder, ***,
Flash fishlike; nymphs and satyrs
Copulate in the foam.

the moonlight caressed her cheeks
as she took a long drag from that cigarette
between those
long, thin fingers.

cotton *******,
***** socks,
skinned knees.

shimming along with the rich sounds
of guitar and French tongue.
soft coffee bean coloured waves in her hair
bounced along with the rest of her body.

warm vanilla perfume,
dabbed behind her ears.
i wanted to be behind her ears.
i wanted my lips pressed up against there.

i wanted to line her shelf-like collarbones
with strawberries
from my teeth.

i did not just long to taste her,
i wanted to savor her.

she's the kind of woman with the scent
you'd remember forever.

you could write an entire novel about
the slight curvature of her spine,
and the way it would mold into the
pit of your stomach perfectly.

she's a 'once in a blue moon'
but with the warmth of the august sun.