I saw him for what he is and what he will be. Physically. I sat right there before him admiring the enlightenment he had already acquired. I noted the many hints of wisdom wrinkled into the skin of his face. I heard the drum of love beating. I was not sure of its origin but the song was melodic to my heart. Beat for beat, I cleaned my slate of insecurity. The past settled like the dust of a rough storm and suddenly I felt free and present all within his warmth. He shook me mentally.

I coughed up the blood of past lovers and froze it for days. I donated that frozen box before I thought to toss the giveaway. Maybe I am undeserving of sensational awakenings such as the gift of him. I blew too many chances with others willing to grant me unlimited wishes. The rest I threw into an ocean of young souls in need of lessons. He told me he loved me under a full moon in Sagittarius.

Speechless was I as the sun woke up; still drunk and sticky on the mouth with breath tasting of tequila and lime, barely hinting I bit into it recently. The same flavor of your weekend visit’s kiss: undeniably recognizable like a favorite Yankee candle. Careful to fall beneath layers of thoughts, I stretched my toes out as if they could touch the wall. Under my aching body the woolen rug felt too rough to have slept well at all. Dreams flooded and fled from my reach. You were there again, but this time I let you be.

Honeymoon: do you think about that word? The mention brings the mind to prasine palm fronds filled with bliss that shan’t ever again be captured in life. It seems the world has noticeably accepted this proposition. With refusal of conformity fringing the tips of my fingers, I dangle the tingly fabric across your solitude. Honey drips south around the craters of the moon and into your mouth. Sweet and warm and fresh of ***.

The sun rises higher to reflect light onto your shoulder. I admire the illumination. Your eyes peek open and pull me in under blankets with your hungry touch. It is morning and I want you.
-
I roll over onto a bed of my own scent: vacant. Threaded memories pulled out of their booklet and shredded. I shrug them away. Under the floorboard I find myself, scratching until my nails bleed blue. I scream until I grow tired. The air in here is nonexistent. I try to balance my breath but I am breathing so fast now I do not know how to slow it down why can’t I keep calm I think I’m going to pass out just calm down. I think I am going to die. I die until I am discovered under the floorboard. I breathe again.

I begged the marijuana to get me as high as heroine
Puffy pink clouds surround my head again
Peeling like paint your face fades from the walls of my brain
Down a rusted melting ladder and passed a white rabbit
who rushes like your heart in the midst of a panic

puff, puff, pass it

Reaching into my chest and opening
up my rib cage like a gate,
I fed the thick smoke to my lungs like iced lemonade
Snaking in and out of each broken rib
The townsmen drank the resin and black blood
before it dried up

sip sip, cough cough

Ghost, they’ll call you once you’ve drowned
under your own saliva screaming for help
No existence was the interest in a dress of rescue
Index flipping south with eyes forward north
scoffing down the brick road they built bare handed
within the same amount of time the mother
held her belly frantic

Flatten, fold, tuck the edge of the napkin
Place it on your lap and look presentable, please
The children won’t know if you don’t tell them
(about the alcohol problem)

shhh

Risky lips find their spot lights
with silly scouring mouths and proud egos
I’m chilly
But he won’t feed into her, since recently
discovering bruises blue as berries behind her knees
Cherry smooch on each
Get better soon, Honey, please

Honey, please
Honey, please

Her juicy heart’s held up with garden stalks
Ripe love threatening to fall off
Ripe love telling me to *******

Were your feet planted in
the same place i discovered you?
Once
our arms touched like it was nothing
skin rubbing lovingly and unaware of the ugliness coming
blue lips locking and
peeling off the plastic
covering the carton we courageously collected
our breath in

We see stars inflating,
baking and heaving
We feel floods rushing
around our ankles and
into our woolen socks
pushing too much and
cringing for the pop

Reluctant and rooted
Suited for a funeral
never scheduled
I search for you underground
only to find a chest
inked with a Japanese dragon
broken lock burnt off and open
the black lungs of a drag in
stained with golden tobacco
wooden bolts with roses
angled against me
I vine up the veins of your attention
and beg you to stay for breakfast

fast forward

into an album stored under the China we will never use
or look at
Twenty seven photos and twenty seven guests
and two hands to flip through the laminated past
and one hand to count the days that they’ll last

Lips kiss carefully
leaving me craving for
the carvings dug deep
within your undeveloped brain

I found carnations
pink as your Italian cheeks
left on my dusty dashboard
in the midst of summer
when I climbed back in heels over head
after the jeep flipped over

There they lay
limp and lonely
telling me stories stuck within their thin throats
and warning with their petals pointed towards the sun

but I’m bleeding nostalgically from my nose
licking the beet red bath from my upper lip
speaking with no teeth left
salty says my tongue but
I see bubbled blotches of someone
I used to call “baby”

Maybe I taste the bittersweet bouquet of
stale rain after all,
Maybe I can hear the clouds gaining weight
when I listen close