i think U and me are meant to be
on summers grove
with every baiting breath
we watch together
our fleeting death
and in the future on a summers day
the dew will drift and fade away
and U and me will meet again
beneath the soil and beneath the sand
the earth sings us to sleep
the fatal hum a promise to keep

I think U and me are meant to be-
and if U disagree,
U will not be there to see
for i have shed our blood and buried are we.
( a lovers promise made and kept)

i will wrap my hands around each of my organs and rip them out one by one. i will call it poetry and make you watch. i will blame you for the mess. when it rains, i will take you out to taste the thunder with me. we will dance until lightning strikes the ground around our feet. we won't stop until the flames kiss our skin. when you complain about the way your toes burn, i will convince you that this is called love, and you will whisper an apology into my lips. i will be thinking of metaphors when you touch me. and when the winds become too strong, when it is all screaming chimes and unhinged doors, i won't stay to clean up the mess. i will pack my things while you beg me not to go. all of my poems have sharp teeth and they are a warning that i do not do anything in a whisper. no. i am the type of person who comes in with a first aid kit. just in case you hurt yourself while loving me. just in case it almost kills you.

I am here
I am here
I am here

and that is enough.

i don’t think I found myself in the poetry, i think i am finding myself in your arms
under the gentle pressure of your fingertips and the velvet embrace of your words.
they think I found myself in the halls of the airport that it walked alone
but
i think i am finding myself in the kitchen of your flat, waiting for the kettle to come to a boil; in cups of tea nursed at the table and I hope that’s okay.
i sip in the same tentative manner that i reach for your hand in the dark; you may have the effervescent beauty of a tree in the autumn but right now i would like to lace my fingers with yours and be human together. i hope that’s okay.
you are like literature and myth; a deep and sprawling spectrum of contradictions and complexities. i feel like teiresias; blind and trapped within my own self-made cocoon of spiralling thoughts.
eyes closed i reach for your hand.
i almost miss my stop on the last train home spilling out sweet words about your everything.
her hair straight out of bed with soft eyes and parted lips, sculpted by aphrodite; carved from the finest marble i want her to pin me down,
to the bed, to reality-
her lips, to guide me
from her waist and back
to sanity. early in the morning
when she wakes up tangled in sheets
with her eyes peeking up over her phone,
soft smile on her lips.
the world stands still in the soft glow of flickering street lights like visible heartbeats, glowing and not glowing in tandem, and the windows are frosted along the edges; worrying a cracked lip between my front teeth i realise this may be the most I have ever thought about tea.
our fingers
tangle, grasp sheets or cheeks rosy
with first-kiss smiles. eyelids
crinkle.
you are butterflies in my stomach, fear and exhilaration, honesty and hope
you are
listening to the same song on repeat; your laugh is the song stuck in my head, every song i’ve ever loved,
the only song i want to listen to.

I daren't (rather, shouldn't) breathe:
I'd built a tower of hearts from cards.
The gaps and breaks are real estate --
I'm nestled in the in-betweens.

                                              (Sapp­**'s spirit sighs.
                                              How human to not move quickly enough,
                                              or to yearn for whatever's inches from reach
                                              - blissfully unhinged by "almost".)

She's marble-carved and still as stone:
if I kissed her, would she spring to life?
I'd offer nought but foolish flesh,
this trembling frame, and bone.

                                                          ­  ("Tell me yes, tell me no;
                                                             either way, you're in the right,
                                                          ­   but for the love of Venus -- speak.")

mint gum makes my nose tickle

mint toothpaste makes my eyes water

mint ice cream makes my teeth hurt

just like you hurt me

when you touch me i am pink lemonade in the fall
your fingers whisper promises on my skin
i believe each one