Muscle memory has made our movements
so cyclical

we
tangle ourselves up monthly

entering  each others presences
with our
amens

your back an altar
that I worship at,
your arms the extent of the world that I acknowledge exits
for now

but the sunlight will always find its way
between us on your pillows
and will always rise
sure of its self
that is has picked the right moment because,
it is the golden boy of the family

and you
will always rise sure of the fact
that you must leave
because it is your ritual
to never expose enough to be a full picture

and I will allow myself to learn again
that the sun
is the brighter star here.

Be brave enough to love a girl
Who is:
Sensitive as ripe fruit
                               and
Resilient like redwood

2. Carry my lipstick remnants in the
valleys
of your collarbone.
Learn the ways to
find the flowers
under my epidermis and make them
bloom.

3. I do not want your love to
come in a
hand
me
down
box.
Show me what’s collected in your
Black hoodie

pockets.

The graffiti that flew by
on an abandoned house
asked me

“will you go with me?”

It makes me wonder
What was their leaving like?
Was it shredding of divorce papers?
Lips so chapped from lack of love and lots of screaming

Who decided to go first?

Was it middle night terror?
An escape plan, 3 parts desperation, 1 part hope
When knives go flying
You tend to want to watch out for your own heart

Or was it a hypothetical new year in the middle of March
Spring and flowers are coming
Someone’s chance at a bigger and better temporary
A grand gesture to invite their loved ones along

Will you go with me?

What will my leaving be like, when it comes time to add a new home to my list

It is always in the pits of inadequacy I remind myself
This around you is temporary
And you are getting better and better at building what you need
I wonder if I will have someone to ask
Will you go with me?

I try my best to be like fruit

so that any scars and bruised left by your poking and
prodding careless hands

teach me to be softer and sweeter than I was before.

We are two people with flashlights for hands
rooting in each others rib cage

showing off the bits of broken glass we swallowed

I will try to make mine pretty
and you'll laugh
cause everything *****, really.

I hope you think that what you've found between my crosshatched texture
one winged birds and fraying rope

**** a little less than most things

Dear Alarm clock that always has the wrong time,
you really **** with my sleep schedule.
Not in a bad way
its just,
you showed me how much luminescence there can be in the dark
and now I want to be awake for all of it.

Dear Sweater that is to small for me now,
at 16 I lived in you
at 17 you helped me learn to hate my body
and at 18 my best friend had to pry me from within your stretched out, past due hold
you’re still in the back of my closet somewhere.