I have come this far,
across the hills of my hometown.
I took my boots off thirty miles ago
and have been roaming barefoot
like a feral thing.
In the distance I saw you, sitting on the porch,
as I grew closer I saw you were smoking
French cigarettes and listening to Cohen.
You stood up to meet me and
before you could speak,
before you could kiss me...

I have never had much luck with men
no, I do not **** the way they like it
my hair is ***** blonde, almost brown
my stomach is round

I do not want your love out of pity, or curiosity
but I love you enough to stop wandering
to wave away the mountains
to drain out the oceans

I will mould myself into the shape of you
so that when we're apart there is an
impression of the other on our flesh

I'll learn to ****, learn to love to ****
bruised memories will heal when your
sweat drenched hand slides down my glistening back

I will love you to your burnt orange core