His hair, soft between my fingertips.
Our foreheads are pressed together, skin pulled over bone.
I am glowing from the inside out; the sun is only an echo of my own illumination.
His warmth is mine, and mine is his.
A smile doesn't let out enough happiness, so I must share by kiss contact.
My heart is connected to my eyes, which are connected to his.
I am so safe, close as can be.
I am loved, I belong.
No longer floating in the dust.
Taste and smell, touch and sight.
Alluring, angular, soft.
Energy spins and bounces between the spaces.
I am his puzzle piece, a grin beneath his teeth.
A push, a pull, battling forces on the same side.
A lifetime in a single moment.

I have a thousand and one thoughts
And all are for you.
I'll think them a thousand and one times,
It's all I can do.
There's a thousand and one things
That I wish to say.
I've tried a thousand and one times,
But I can't find the way.
I've seen a thousand and one
Different ways that you smile,
And in a thousand and one ways
Each make things worthwhile.
So for the thousand and one times
We'll never be,
There's the thousand and one times
You're everything to me.

His shadow is the same

his breath, his mane

of hair that tickles my chin

is the same as when

he had come to me the night before

that heavy rain when I might take him in a breath

in that scent of sweet deceit.

That beautiful lie where truth won't meet.

A beautiful disaster where I admit defeat

and touch the mirror

watching the ripples form into a man I no longer recognize

but no longer despise.

We don’t want the good guy. I mean we do, we like the idea of him, but not actually him. We want the one who is going to rip our heart out and eat it in front of us.
We want to cry and hate ourselves. Hate our bodies for wanting him, our hearts for going back and our minds for rationalizing it all. We want him because at some point we were taught it was okay; either by our father, brother, uncle, the media, by peers or him.
We were called prudes, old maids and told to lower our standards and give in.
Who were we to think we’d find a man to treat us like that, like a queen? After all he was our king...And so we go along passing up the boring boys for the exciting men. We trade in the picket fence and 2 kids for sleepless nights wondering what it was that we did wrong. Why can’t he love us, the way we love him? But I’m a sucker for punishment and on to the next one.

One more person is going to change.
One more person is going to betray.
One more person is going to leave.
One more person is going to die.
The world will shatter into a million pieces.
Leaving me ensnared in space.
Leaving me cold and dark.
Watching the universe.
Watching the black hole.
Swarming around me

I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,
Or English poets who grew up on Greek
(I'd have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek.)

How well her wishes went! She stroked my chin,
She taught me Turn, and Counter-turn, and stand;
She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin:
I nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;
She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,
Coming behind her for her pretty sake
(But what prodigious mowing did we make.)

Love likes a gander, and adores a goose:
Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;
She played it quick, she played it light and loose;
My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;
Her several parts could keep a pure repose,
Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
(She moved in circles, and those circles moved.)

Let seed be grass, and grass turn into hay:
I'm martyr to a motion not my own;
What's freedom for? To know eternity.
I swear she cast a shadow white as stone.
But who would count eternity in days?
These old bones live to learn her wanton ways:
(I measure time by how a body sways.)

Look past her
tired eyes and
her plastic smile

Look past her
messy hair and
chipped nail polish

Look past her
teeming strength and
her scarred up arms

And you'll see
someone unwell and
broken inside

And you'll see
everything wrong and
nothing right

And you'll see
a courageous bravado and
a breaking facade

Look past her
everything and
you'll see

Only me.

I don't ask you to be faithful - you're beautiful, after all -
but just that I be spared the pain of knowing.
I make no stringent demands that you should really be chaste,
but only that you try to cover up.
If a girl can claim to be pure, it's the same as being pure:
it's only admitted vice that makes for scandal.
What madness, to confess by day what's wrapped in night,
and what you've done in secret, openly tell!
The ******, about to bed some Roman off the street
still locks her door first, keeping out the crowd:
will you yourself then make your sins notorious,
accusing and prosecuting your own crime?
Be wise, and learn at least to imitate chaste girls,
and let me believe you're good, though you are not.
Do what you do, but simply deny you ever did:
there's nothing wrong with public modesty.
There is a proper place for looseness: fill it up
with all voluptuousness, and banish shame;
but when you're done there, then put off all playfulness
and leave your indiscretions in your bed.
There, don't be ashamed to lay your gown aside
and press your thigh against a pressing thigh;
there take and give deep kisses with your crimson lips;
let love contrive a thousand ways of passion;
there let delighted words and moans come ceaselessly,
and make the mattress quiver with playful motion.
But put on with your clothes a face that's all discretion,
and let Shame disavow your shocking deeds.
Trick everyone, trick me: leave me in ignorance;
let me enjoy the life of a happy fool.
Why must I see so often notes received - and sent?
Why must I see two imprints on your bed,
or your hair disarrayed much more than sleep could do?
Why must I notice love bites on your neck?
You all but flaunt your indiscretions in my face.
Think of me, if not of your reputation.
I lose my mind, I die, when you confess you've sinned;
I break out in cold sweat from hand to foot;
I love you then, and hate you - in vain, since I must love you;
I wish then I were dead - and you were too!
I won't investigate or check whatever you try
to hide: I will be thankful to be deceived.
But even if I catch you in the very act
and look on your disgrace with my own eyes,
deny that I have seen what I have clearly seen,
and my eyes will agree with what you claim.
You'll win an easy prize from a man who wants to lose,
only remember to say, 'I didn't do it.'
Since you can gain your victory with one short phrase,
win on account of your judge, if not your case.