Let's make a deal
that the smoke scented
taste of your tongue
will never leave mine.

it is summer again, and
we are getting high underneath
the tanglewood bridge

our shoulders stick together
with sweat, one of us coughing,
inexperienced, the other
laughing

it is summer again, and
i don't remember a day when i
didn't want to spend
all my time with
you

the next time you say
"no one loves me",
remember how its like to have a fever
don't reach the glass of water your throat is thirsting for
close your eyes for a little bit
and see your body for what it is
it is a warzone
and it is fighting to keep you alive
because it loves you
it doesn't know what you are
who you are
what you have done
but with every cut you etch across your skin
as if you are trying to erase your mistake
it heals you as if it is
trying to tell you
you are worth it
you
are
worth it
even if you don't think you are
even if everyone else doesn't think you are

so if you are looking for unconditional love,
reach for that glass of water - clench your thirst
pull that blanket over yourself
sleep knowing that your body loves you, even if you don't love you
tomorrow,
everything will be okay
hold on a little bit.

we hear the dancing men giggle,
**** cloth comedians
two Tarzans twittering
like nightingales singing in berkley square
their female wrestling partners
as bereft as any whale
longing for ruby rings
to signpost the hell out of there.

I watched my father kneel down on one knee over his parent's graves today.
      The stillness of the air
     was far greater than the few little
words that could have been spoken.
After a moment, he rose with a sigh,
wiping away several tears before
they could even leave his eyelashes.
     It was the first time I ever realized,
that one day,
  I too would be kneeling
over my parents,
devastated and speechless,
      leaving generations behind me
      with nothing more than
                   a faint
                          sigh.