sunburnt stitches girl
you're early grasp I'm
itchy grass
& I can't, I'm mad
I can't I can and cannot stand
how it still goes
I keep quiet I
still walk barefoot on this shell-sharp sand
still crawl through the memory of your legs
back of the head regret, on top of another body
it's just coffee it's just
time after time
never the right amount of miles

I want to
stop loving you now
cause sometimes
I wish I could scream the word out loud
use your name
so they know all of these were always to you

I imagine outer space to feel like this.
like;
no matter what, I can't lie down.
seeing a star that close made
all else seem
so much less bright.
I'm unimpressed.
I just want to love again but, you left that spell on me.
my eyes don't see color anymore,
my arms aren't reaching.
you printed poems onto my bones.
my mouth won't let me say marvelous and my hands quit thinking.
I'll turn to dust like this darling.
I'll be a little sandstorm on your
shore for awhile and
dizzily dissolve into your
winsome crashing.

it's enough feeling
forgotten, (you'd think)
seeing her brush go
everywhere but the paper;
wondering if I missed something /
love makes me a believer in naive
less sleep, questioning everything.
questioning wander it's
no wonder I don't dream it's
games atop bodies
it's no wonder I drink;
I've been screaming for you
every day of the week
choking on salt from the waves
in your sea of bad timing

I'm not a child
woman I'm
this wanting thing between
two arms
shaped like a body
I've been alive with the breeze for
centuries, darling

my love wasn't being made to make you feel foolish
you can't learn from that
wash your hands now, it's midnight
I'm
out the window
I wonder
what you wanted
and hold the whiskey in my mouth
singing be mine
for the company
cause I don't want to be ashamed to love you

& I'm tired.
Tired of sleeping after sweet dreams /
I'm sitting up now because you know I can't sleep  
who wants to sleep after a beg like that
I'm not built to be listless
I'm built for better, I'm strong
& you're
the 4pm sun in October
you're the reason I whistle in a hundred colors
It's a beautiful torture to miss a hand so much
to wear rings for the memory of fingers and to crave a cheek, not only for it's mouth but because feeling you allows me to breathe easy

I said enough when it wasn't  
my like for a mountain of
mouths to **** time
& I'm still standing in the hallway;
happening upon where it went
or
if you could have helped it
I know I couldn't
when I can hardly stand or
stand it
built a lump of love in the blue dark
during wine
she's just
a woman in jeans
a heavy thought against my knees or
something I think I need to
belong with me

gorgeous doesn't
do you
justice
when I just wished for the chorus
singing our lousy song, I
stayed up late with it
I
counted the sheep
they fell asleep
I'm
clutching the sheets
stop thinking there's a
Dreamgirl
quit pouring that red-cheek idea
down your throat
a few more
fast
the song should end soon
sore knee love
should end soon
professional pretender
bending blinks
more drinks, bartender
loving you gets
expensive
I'm paying with my
well-being
I'm being lied to by sunlight
cause I can't trust anything
after it leaves

love is in the silence
the nothing that fronts completion
the smell and ******
trusting in care
it is in caring

quieting down for the loud of your lover
love like this, completely or
do not claim the word
love is in the consistency and not the pattern
finding love in the letting

love is in the letting and moving
the dancing of bodies

it is in forgetting
and pulling it all through

the way two bodies feel in bed
waking up wanting to do it all
over and over and over again

to run
stay
stand
believe

to love as an action
not as a feeling

to breathe
and to see
as with intention
& not as a need

and to need

these needs are burning wants
& I want everything in terms of
*freeing

I wanted to see the sunset
so I watched it over my book

& sometimes I wish I'd met you out

I'm digging my feet as deep into the sand as my ankles will allow
i can wear the day like my shoes. the earth as my boots

my gift
I stood present with you
i was
wet paint
spilling herself in a
gallery
when the artist had gone
so I
find myself
touching the knife

except

you let me love your dogs