i don't deserve your late night kisses

Autumn leaves are butterflies falling from nature's grace:
This morning, I watched a butterfly disappear into a pile
of auburn leaves. As I stopped to watch, it frightened its black
speckled wings into the clouds and I smiled because
even something as beautiful as a butterfly has a will to disappear.

All of my friends are sad and trade
shades of grey like women in department
stores do pants. They don't listen to my
jokes about foreign policy and humanism
versus feminism. They listen to the words
I say about him as they shut me in and then
out, the women, they don't really care.

today i took a trip through the meadows to remind
myself of what the grace of auburn leaves felt like
to the pallet of my eyes.

lets speak like there are no periods
and keep our need for our tongues
to curve into commas and let our
lips visit the taste of hesitance only
when our breaths begin to hitch like
ragweed on the itch of a cough lets keep
talking like our lungs have no need for
replenishment lets keep speaking like
we have no need to stop

my throat is a
net filled with
butterfly wings
and wooden  
handles.