i get obsessed
with the way my feet look in the reflection-
swing them back and forth
as i lie on my bed
like a high school girl from a
90s sitcom
there is bright light and a
colourful blanket but then
tell me;
why am i so sad

his body is nearly a universe:
nearly the universe,
his hands orbiting a
broken solar system,
his fingers the
planets and the stars,
his soul contains multitudes:
infinite galaxies,
possibilities mapped out
by his mouth;    
sun that leaves
trails of blazing fire
comforting in its warmth.

we form a
halo of skin and lips and bodies
the closest i am,
closest i have ever been
to a
higher realm

body becomes
my religion
i never get on my knees to
pray but
i beg him to
worship me at
my altar,

and when he finds me
oh,
when he finds me-

it is tattoos and
wet mouths pressed and
dry eyes;
it is laughing until we forget the joke,
and the night casts disapproving glances
upon our
two
******
souls;
it is the arch of two backs
bent over, straining with
twisted desire;
it is brown hair tasting of salt-
glowing golden in the rising
sunshine that cuts slats onto his
freckled skin;
it is kissing him when he tastes like
desperation and
hope,
and i can tell you that it is the
only time i have ever
felt anything remotely
like
faith

two girls,
one bubble,
too many words;
spilling over the edges of the
soapy sphere,
tinted glass can’t see out,
only in.

one way glass
on display for everyone
but only for themselves;
solitary stars in the
dark winter night
flecks of gold in
eyes the colour of tar,

talk about
birds of paradise
caged animals and caged people
golden potion
broken systems
party dresses and shoes
crowded earth:
too many words
one bubble
two girls.

battered kingdom falling to shards behind me
glass and cement pierce
wounds
through my soul
past glories fading rapidly
pick my way through the overgrown weeds
upturned throne on its side
crumbling staircase
kings tower in shambles
nothing but debris and rubble

i peer over the wasteland; the
streets i once ruled,  
the subjects, once mine, raise their
deadened eyes
only to watch me fall to the brittle earth,
they return their gaze to the barren ground,
away from the corpse bleeding black
nothing to see here, folks

you take my words
how do i write my poems
about your eyes
and how my heart stores
every time
you have looked at me in them
how they are desperate and
full of some twisted sadness
how
they’ve met mine across the dance floor, and
across a table of familiar strangers
filled with strange food, and
across a school bus bay crowded with
shrieks and laughter of ***** being thrown
where you lay on your back
tossed one to me, and
how every single time
i was
searching,  
searching
for something i don’t even know
really
exists,

but thats why scientists
look for bones:
to make skeletons.

stop making
eye contact
with me: you know
i never want to
look
away

shuttered lights from the cafe
window illuminate only
your eyes.

middle of the night,
the moonlight shifts your
dark hair
to silver.

hands too close to the
fire, turning your
skin translucent, green-blue
veins visible.

walking too far ahead of me,
feet safe in the darkness,
the space between us growing, and
glowing with starlight.

lamplight from the streets
chooses it's spotlight
on your fingers intertwined with
another's, your bodies in the
dark parts of the bed
we used to lie