Decide the course of the love therapy, you'd subject my body, soul and spirit,
my body is eaten by the poison weeds of passing moments, I am a dissolving island,
elate my spirit, still my mind, calm my body aches with love, the aura that ever surrounds you,
begin with your conquering lips, kiss me head to toe, let me drain in to you and sink in oblivion.

a dewdrop
on the petal
of your red lower lip,
     tempting
like a drop of honey,
waiting
to be tasted
by a bee;
               imagine me,
I took it so gently,
with my lips
and avidly made mine
and heard beauty speak
to me in a secret tongue,
I am your sun, you said,
the sun that thrills you with
a warm kiss, when
it's most needed.

She was beautiful, but not in the way you would expect a person to be beautiful.
You could see it by the way her dark green eyes fixated on you, like she could
see all your thoughts blooming like wildflowers from your head. You could see it
by the way she held her ceramic coffee cup, with both hands, embracing the warmth
and taking deep sips of that magic black liquid.
Their was something about her, something so... genuinely unique.
You could feel the electric pulse of her aura going through your nervous system.
There was something about this girl, telling, urging me to just say one simple hello.

There he was- the object of my affection.
He said each word as if it was carefully picked
Eloquently placed into a beautiful handwritten love letter.  

He had come from a past era, it was evident in the way he moved.
Each physical characteristic was beautiful and shocking
It’s hard to move away from this magnetic being.

I try to be pretty and feminine because that’s what boys like him would want
Every stitch, carefully picked out and examined
Every disproportionate feeling, hidden with my idea of perfect contentment
Every hopeful glance from another leaving my eyes greener than I had originally thought.

I didn’t know him well in the summer
I only knew of the charm and the grace that he had given
Our truck rides and the faded Polaroid colours

He didn’t look at me like teenage boys look at their teenage girlfriends.
With a soft gaze and slightly parted lips
He was silently telling me that he’d do anything for me
That I was dream and that he was a dreamer
And that my happiness was completely his.
He silently told me that we were in love
And I believed him.

Longing
for the days when I didn't know what sad meant
when serious was an idea used only to describe a teacher who didn't joke around.
when I was going to write the next great novel, the next hit musical
when friends were in high supply and it didn't matter that my hair was never brushed
when I played an instrument taller than I because I could
when I cried when I missed the second day of school
when the grass was my favorite place to sit
and moving our legs was more important than shaving them
when i didn't have to watch my words because everything was perfect and what could i say wrong
when the only pain i felt was a skinned knee
and the only loss was of a tooth.
simple is better.
i wish we could all understand.