There was a man named Andy.
He was this tall-
Had a beard like a Christmas tree-
He always wore black.

He could see the future-
He used the chirping of  birds as a metronome-
He smelled like peppermint-
He could smell the color yellow.

He was an atheist-
He waited outside catholic schools-
to tell children-
"God is like Santa, he ain't ******' real"

Andy was a liar-
A thief with no teeth-
A ******, a crook-
A homeless **** cook.

Andy.

lay with me on the lawn
when it's too hot to move
and silently soak up the sunlight

dance with me while moonlit
to your favorite song
as the stars shimmer in our eyes

love every part of me,
speak to me in poetry,
and never let me go

Nightfall
and I cannot get over
the architecture of you

I could draw your fingerprints
from memory
with rainbow crayons

paint
how you scrunched your toes
like yesterday’s paper

whenever the water
threatened to soak
our undressed feet

We are here
talking about
anything everything

nothing at all
your words are my wine
I want to sip every drop

ask for another bottle
in the coal-black silence
and get smashed

wake up tomorrow with sand
strewn through my fringe
a silly smile or two

forget what is not
on this beach
and know only now

the tone of the waves
hue of your lipstick
beat of our hearts

It begins when a
butterfly dies. My stomach
is an insect grave.