Sweet things are said sweetly
Confections whispered into the ear
You open your soul for the luscious 'knight'
Candied are his words
Sugar coating the heart with a delicate shell
This sugary Candy Man will eat at this heart so decadent
Leaving you with the cavity

I know a place where I belong,
Just down the road, by the bluebird's song.
Hang a left where your heart beats fast:
Here's the future of presents past.

When you find the spot where your lungs breathe quick
Climb up the scaffold, stick by stick.
When you reach the top, leap; Fall; FLY
(I always wake before I die)

When your feet are loose and your fancy's free
Find the nest of the chickadee-
Here you're brave and here you're bold,
And here the hearth is never cold.

A place where arms enfold your soul
And yearning never takes its toll-
I belong here. In this, the forest gold,
And here I'll stay 'til my mind grows old.

I'll wander 'til I rest my head-
And I will only sleep when I am dead.

It’s the strings of a guitar that remind me of coca butter skin. A warm-hearted harmony transfixes my mind to the california king with ripped bed sheets.  If only you hadn’t tickled the left side of my heart, I could’ve hidden my smile.  You were unexpected, a scientific anomaly.  Blind sided by nervous laughter and beautiful eyes, You’re my Sandra Bullock. You’ve saved me from the darkness of my heart, from all the self-appointed doubts and belief I am everything... But a good man.  It’s the white of your eyes that tells me I’m safe, the dimples of your smile let me know, you trust me. In the years before you, I lived like rusted iron, never thought about, never cared for, looking used and broken.  I was all of these things, because I wanted to be.  I feared of caring, petrified to look into blue eyes, saying, I love you. Weather with luck or broken tan lines, you’ve frozen my fear.  Our first memory is beneath bedsheets, hiding from the friends on the other side of love.  If curiosity kills the cat, I believe I have 8 lives left.  That’ll be long enough to show you that wrinkles above your nose during laughter, is the cutest feature I see.  It was a clouded night sky when we first swapped, I love you’s, I still smell the apple pie we shared.   I’ll cross my heart, hope to die if I forget our five hour mindless midnight argument, we are young adults with minds of children, only we find ice skating funny.  Everything I have is yours, praying that it’ll be enough because when the sky falls down, I’ll want to be standing right next to you.  You’ll be the calm before the storm, the rainbow after rain has seized it’s descent toward troubled grounds. When oceans become puddles, I’ll look back for nervous laughter and beautiful eyes, saving me from the darkness of my heart. I know it’s darkness shall never return, the white of your eyes enlightens the charcoal pieces.  So when the sun burns out, I’ll never be afraid. I’ll have you shield me beneath bedsheets, hiding from those on the other side of something, not yet known.

The armrest between us
feels dangerous.
Here I sit
separate
in my chair
safe
on my own.

The tension is thick
like the rim of your glasses
thick
like the lump in my throat.

I focus on not touching you
so much so, that I forget
about the no-man's land that is
the armrest.

Our fingers touch briefly.
It's an accident.

It's electric.

And our hands do a dance,
delicate and graceful.
A ballet of avoidance.

Ceasing movement,
content in our solitude,
A sigh of relief.
Of disappointment.

Then, a sudden attack.

You lace your fingers between my own
and gently squeeze my hand.

You don't look at me.
And I am grateful.