I once wished
that we first met as friends, rather than
lovers,
that I knew your tongue
rolling against your teeth to
speak something honest before I felt it curling
around my skin.
Ever since,
I have tried to stay separate – I wanted
to paint portraits of the
earth, of luminaries and geodes,
but every picture looks like my body after ***
with you,
little crystals of you
cornering the emptiest parts of me.
I part as a flower blooms,
two years
and I realize I must believe in falling stars
now.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
I once wished
that we first met as friends, rather than
lovers,
that I knew your tongue
rolling against your teeth to
speak something honest before I felt it curling
around my skin.
Ever since,
I have tried to stay separate – I wanted
to paint portraits of the
earth, of luminaries and geodes,
but every picture looks like my body after ***
with you,
little crystals of you
cornering the emptiest parts of me.
I part as a flower blooms,
two years
and I realize I must believe in falling stars
now.
