When you look at me
I kiss you with my eyes,
Lashes hitting each **** in your heart
Which I taste in my mouth,
Rusted iron clots.

When you look at me
My knees buckle
Under the smell of your warmth
Behind each tooth,
In the snug of your baseball cap.

When you look at me
My fingers resist to trace
The lines of your face, down
To shoulder blades and tendons
In your arms.

When I look at you
I sweat in anticipation
Of someday, maybe, understanding
Everything blooming about you
Under the beds of your nails.

When I stare at my wall
With the right slant of head
I feel my toes in Superior sand,
Remember the silhouette of your hands
On my back. I hear the water,
Your breathing, how they were
The same. I feel your timid face
On my nose, telling me stories
Of every crevice in your atrium.
I taste the warmth of your tongue
Breaking through your blossomed lips,
Inching nearer my teeth with every ended
Chapter of aorta.
I catch your warmth as it boils under my chin,
despite Northern winds,
watch our chests weld into one with our heat.
I see your soft eyes,
Drowning in your heavy lids
As they fall asleep to the sound of our
Silence.

But your hands were too big for mine
That afternoon.
I think maybe you need to shrink,
Or I need to grow.
Or we will meet in the middle,
Frightened and in love
with our new shape and size.

Your watermelon vine fingers
Caress my sunflower stalk spine.
We dig our trowel toes into the lome
Of my mattress,
Cover our shoulders in frost-evading fleece.
I hear your heart ripen under your skin.
I smell the heat inside your lungs
Growing and expanding in the August crisp.
You seed a whispered kiss on my lip.

You are planted inside me,
digging into me,
And I bind to your stem
With my peach flowered palm.
We bloom at the first ray of morning as
I weave deeper into your trellis arms.
Our breaths match the pull of the wind.
You touch your forehead to my breast,
Our stems heaving.

Here we grew our love.
Here we grew the foundation of our separation.

If you saw me
I might be upside down,
Different spectra of vibrations
Pulsing from my goosebumped knees.
I imagine if I sweep my arms back and forth
Across the benthic stretches of our skies
I may feel your structure
In the crease of my thumb.

I reach my hand out to touch you.
Your elbow is somewhere in space,
Bent a certain posture.
It's possibly inverted,
But it could be rigid and reaching for my hair.
I think your forehead may point toward my collarbone,
Protruding like deer antlers.
In your universe my collarbone looks different,
Objects that will never be
metaphoric molds for my words,
But exist in every third line of your poetry
You may or may not write.

In-between our possible distance
There are millions of bodies,
Or just a few.
Neither of these options we can see
Or touch.
We will never know how close our blinks are.
Yet I can feel my breath rush down my chin,
Knowing if we ever found each other
Your exhale would twist into mine.

I pretend your smell
Walks the same blocks that I do
Home. Kindled under street lamp.
Or sleeps in my passenger seat,
Underneath fingernails and
Seeping through my palm.

I also pretend to know what your smell is.
When I remember how I don't know
I pretend I'll find out tomorrow,
Reaching for the smallest wisps
Traveling down jet stream and Lake Effect crispness.

I watch our arms sew together
under gravity's needle.
Our fingers bloom roses
as our blood shines and spins
together on our now single palm.

Mother watches from home
through her crumbling telescope.
She sees us suspended
in half kiss. She waits for impact
of hips, her fingers moist,
slipping off her eyepiece.
She wipes the sweat from her lip.

When I feel her gaze on the soul of my foot
I know she is watching with
cataracts and bifocals.
I am the same age a when I left her
while she cries dust on
her cracking refracting lens.
She can't look away at my stuck body,
rigormortic, frozen and unfocused
in her left eye.

She sits down and dies.
I have just begun.

If you would have asked me to stay
i would not have said no,
it would never have meant yes

I despised those pants you used to wear, the ones that fell too short and landed too far above your shoes.
it made you look like a child who had out grown his pants.

your mom gave me a look of distrust; she was always right about me.

I didn't cheat on you the morning in March when you accused me, although I wanted to.
in June I cheated with the bartender from the karaoke bar where you sang Bob Marley that one spring night.

I thought I would regret it, I didn't.
I told you I loved you because you said it first, I didn't mean it for another 3 months.

I never liked your singing voice,
or New York City.
I still dream of the way you looked at me the first day we danced.
I cried about you last week stuck in LA traffic.

I think about you every other morning, and when I'm drinking red wine.

you were always a lover. sometimes I just needed a friend.

Ive tried to convince myself it wasn't my fault-
the truth is you would never have been enough
my burden to bear is that I'm addicted to chaos… excitement… fire.

Your burden is that you cared too much.

you are tranquil, I am a hurricane.

I want to make you laugh again.

We live in the reality of spirituality
The universe only lets us think we make the rules, so we'd believe
we had the power to pick our own lovers.
Well the Truth is we were handpicked for each other.

You were always going to be mine, I was always going to be yours.

child-like thoughts run through my mind in between the thoughts of adulthood coming at me
and all i can think about is the children's code
an infinite amount of everything out of anything
substituting words to mean something else

tongue we would only know
i'm feeling my youth tonight
so sit back while i speak to you in code:

the thought of complete bliss will always be the year of 2008
filled with sunny summer days
vampire weekend
and not a care in the world
adulthood so far away
the whole WORLD in our hands and all the ambition at our fingertips
memories tap into my brain constantly
tap tap tap
dot dot dash
.. / -- .. ... ... / -.-- --- ..-
repeat.
repeat.
repeat.

weekends filled with computer games
because that's what all the cool kids do right?
days of portal and nights of runescape

the sun is shining
we close the blinds to keep the glare away
we are chell

night time falls
creative gamertags emerge
we take on lumbridge together
mouthoil and lavenderbrwnie making their way

all on one screen of a complex calculator
binary running through it's circuits
01110111 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101001 01101101 01100101 00100000 01100111 01101111 00111111


symbols with a key
the easiest way to communicate on school grounds
passing notes
only we would understand

^(&$# RQH%QW%*D
E(H% R($T#% *%

I've seem to misplace the key
along with our time

almost 20
and our new method is a great one
poetry
so i'll give you something you're very good at breaking down:

it's raining harder in the backyard than the front
We both have that same feel
I don't even have to ask to know
but one day
the sun will come out
it'll be high noon
there will be sun and warmth all around the property
and we'll jump on the trampoline
tie dye some shirts
and talk in code once again

olive juice.

repeat.
repeat.
repeat.