It was there, I at the sea and you in the mountains, each of us looking up and loathing the same sky, our heartbeats dissolving like runaway trains in the distance en route to unknown destinations that we wondered why, if moments like this were possible (as apparently they were), they should be doled out to us so infrequently as to threaten our belief in them entirely.

I tell you I'm going to write something drunk,
but it's past midnight and the pen is still of ink
despite being more than a handful of shots in
and staring at a page for what seemed like ten whole minutes
but was probably more like two

I text you saying this
and I'm probably a lot more disappointed than you are
because for me the whole conceit
is that I would inevitably write something about you,
and anything about you would probably be closer to genius
than to garbage

I'm not sure what I thought you would say,
it was really more of an offhand comment
to keep the conversation going because
we are both drunk and we are both alone
but what you say, in that sort of ironic deadpan
that only a text without punctuation can convey is,
"You've written these texts"

I say (because I really am, in an idiotic smile way),
"Mind blown"
and you say,
"Write about that"
and I say,
"I will"

Because I'm just in control of my faculties enough
to have the small revelation
that the line between what I write down and what I say to people
is totally arbitrary and self imposed -
not anymore arbitrary than anything else I guess
but that's not the point

My body is an orchard
Pluck the fruits of my labors
Feast on the life i have grown
They were raised with water and light
And the cool of the earth
Waiting for someone like you
To steal from me like a child
Wide eyed and searching
I have no remorse, all i can do
is grin wide from cheek to cheek

I know that I want to unwrite you from my past, (or at least I should),
but when it comes down to it, I don't know if I would.

You really have to watch those liberal males,
they'll spend hours and hours with you having
deep intellectual conversations.

They'll discuss deep ideas, contemplate esoteric
theory and spiritual ideas. They'll make love
for hours and write deep and meaningful poetry
about you. Sure, they will probably wear their hair
long and most likely won't own a television.

But, they'll understand art and architecture and
literature. It's true that they probably won't give two
shakes about who won what football game, but they'll
dance with you late at night under the stars and they're
always looking for new ways to please you and usually
understand your deepest thoughts, often before you
understand them yourself.

They'll be your best friend and always treat you as
an equal, in fact, it will never even enter their mind
that you're not. They're almost always physically fit, too,
because they're usually the outdoorsy type and love to hike.
They never make fun of others, or discuss small ideas.
They enjoy discussing ways to improve the world and
the lives of others.

Sure, they won't slap you on your *** and tell you to get in
the kitchen and cook them some dinner and bring them a beer
while you're at it like those macho men on the right. Instead
they'll probably tell you to relax while they whip you up a
gourmet meal and serve it to you on the best dishes.

Yeah, you really gotta watch out for those liberal males.

I have to apologize for what I feel and then you have the audacity to wonder why sometimes I rather keep my feelings buried deep inside my chest, as if you had left me another choice