i had dynamite in my front pocket,
reading lines from my wrinkles and
we were fighting chemistry as if
we had the choice.
we threw our numbers into the air to
tie to the telephone lines that were
tangled with tree fingers,
or maybe they were strings from
the instruments in our laced up
lips that held truth for what it's worth.
we would hum melodies in the bathtub
and laugh when we'd fall for each other
all over again.
when you held birds on your shoulders
i made you bracelets to show you
the way you pulled my knots
and it feels so good when you do.
i threw you the ropes that swung
the wrecking ball into my walls and
you took them with grace.
i wish i was as graceful as you,
when i look up to give you feathers
on your lips.
i always seem to stumble,
like you have control over my steps
and sometimes i fight my laughter to
keep up with you.
the wind looks like your reflection
at times and i can't help but
wonder if you are superhuman
with ocean eyes and setting me
alight without convictions and
yet i wouldn't mind always being
in your chest cavity,
to feel your beats in time with
mine.