the sun drips
like
a
yellow yolk

oozes
down
the gold knots
of my spine
breathe the first of Spring days
the radio plays our favorite song

i see you backwards
quickly
all the times we had
vulnerable;
gone.

the sky is blue, the lake is blue
your eyes are blu
and they say i look like your
sister
oh gods. help me
i can’t feel anything
except you
and everything here is you

slate sleepy streets wet
you make like a wizard
funny feelings from your fairy dust

is the wild prospect of
misinterpretations making you hard
for me like your fear of my flirt

gets me turned on?
these warm shadows sail
dumb conversations at a coffee shop
the core of you is warm and i am cold

We're in the sun and I'm moving from your mouth
to your jeans, we're watching the stars and we're moving
We're going down the green boulevard and we're cruising
you speak Romanian, I speak you, we're going to far
and moving to the beat as one and the wind blows the hair
in my face and I got news for you, I can see you just clearly
as I could before, carefully, barely hanging on and catching movies

I can't keep away from your kiss, back and forth want to feel
the rest of you and all of you can't wait to catch you all alone
we're in the sun and I'm moving from your mouth
to the hole in your heart, tell me how you feel and who you are
you speak barely, your rhythmic breaths tell me all I need to know
waste the day and spend all the time in your pockets, all alone
floating around your head and hanging midair in your palms like
a red balloon

i want to eat you
let no one else have you
tie you to my bedpost
and leave the house for the whole day

uneventful day graces
what might one say when all
the cookies are gone
make merry with marrow narrowness

the slave’s in my bedroom with
window blinds open for all to see
in shocking stark gestures
and through showering trees

my dear, where has all the poetry gone
i might answer, where the cookies
and love went, the stubbornness
of push and shove, you speak when i say you can

beg when i want you to

funny how it's always
been about you

the wind's through the larynx
of a world raging without us
the song's making us weep

the stage too hard to cast our swag on
fingers to shaky to turn the page

i've been kicking it with a friend
the undertone of sinister elegance
of age - the vanishing of what used to be

Friday is for fry yays, queer guys
coming at me with the gold heart
and smooth, skin tender intentions
I’d rather call all my friends

and sit around being poor and pretty
at a park