One room away is a woman
who wants me to **** her.
She is beautiful, intelligent, and drunk.

I am ugly, intelligent, and sober.

Even though my highest and best
tells me to walk away with a smile,
my core screams for a ruining.

One room away is a drunk, *****,
dripping work of art who is also
very, very lucky.

Charles tells me to listen to
my **** and Pablo whispers a reminder
to remember the smell
of early morning wheat
and your eyelashes
while Walt and I gaze at the stars
and think of death.

I smile to myself,
soaking in the after glow
of vanilla chai, good ****,
and dead poets.

One room away is a woman
who's fate was in my sadistic hands.
Two rooms away is a twelve year old
who is dreaming of flag football
and Vans and getting to
level 37 of Skyrim
and one day,
after he wakes up
and after we have our
toaster strudel,
and somewhere in between
me stopping for coffee
and dropping him off,
I'll remind him
that good ***** is everywhere
so take your time and do it right
and when you just don't want to
look at their face,
make some tea,
catch a buzz,
and read some poetry.

t h e      s u n       i s
about    to       come    up
where  you are   and i miss the
morning  grouchiness  that  comes
before your first cigarette of the day,
the   smell  of  my  shampoo   in  your
hair,  your  sleepy  face  buried  into
every warm crevi­ce of   m y   body

i
keep
thinking
you   should
be    taking    up
spaceinmyapartment,
claiming a side of the bed
and the couch, getting    up   in
the middle of the night for a glass
of water. becauseyoumake sense here
in the  soft  afternoon  light  of my living
room, in my  hands, in  my  heart. it's like i
had   been  running  for   so  long  that  i  had
forgotten how to   stop   my legs until you came
along, until you reminded me of what it was like
to           pull               air               through           the
e  n  t  i  r  e  t  y          o  f          m  y        l  u  n  g  s
and not just into the first  two  inches, until you
told me that you think i can be doing so much
more- that i deserve  a  life  bigger  than the
city limits of this missouri town. you are
endless possibilities and unfathomable
potential,   the  slow  simmer    to my
constant  movement.  please don't
stop loving my weak arms and
the heart i have    patched to
my   sleeve.  please    don't
forgettocomebacktome.