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sweet ridicule Feb 2018
Blue Snoopy mugs and dark black coffee. You smile and I sip. I fling windows open to clean the inside air. It is negative degrees outside but in my bed we wake up sweaty. Bananas and pomegranate green tea, we read late into the night. Not unusually, I am alternating between euphoria and crises every few hours; the weight of existence is immeasurable. You explain the biology of monkeys and how we choose who our children become. I wonder about who I have become. We lay on the pink and the blue rugs and your body lowers slowly onto mine. You say you want a life centered around this; I say I agree. My head is too full of you to say anything more. I rub lavender and chamomile oil over my chest. I think of it when I walk outside and wonder if I am as much a part of the earth as I want to be. You kiss my neck from behind and bring me back. I am always coming and going.
I need to write more prose.
sweet ridicule Feb 2018
I love you tenderly.
In the morning your peaceful
complexion soft and your
earth-brown hair tousled
against baby pink pillowcase.
My nose pressed against your
cheek, I try to breathe you in
(inhale the smell of sleep) (longing)
with you I can focus in
on controlling my pulse
The arches of your collarbones
make me ache
your entire self singing of
sweet ridicule Feb 2018
Stand outside put your
hands in front of you catch
the snowflakes in your mittens
bittersweet like lemon green tea I take
these pieces of living and slip them
under my tongue like candies.
I **** on them throughout
the day and remain sane thanks to
the rays of sun twirling across my
dashboard and the wind squeezing my
fingertips till they are blue.
living is a lot
sweet ridicule Feb 2018
giggling I am not being
facetious but the sight of you
flying towards me is exhilarating
and quite honestly I can say that
you are the happiest thing I have
ever witnessed.
sweet ridicule Feb 2018
you smell sweaty (and honeyed,
like the Burt’s Bees soap you just
started using) I rest my
nose in the crook of your neck
and shoulder. I should like to
stay here while you do physics
(watching you write is
mesmerizing) but it is 1 AM
and my eyes hurt. I will
wake up eager at 3 AM when you
stumble into bed; pull you close
and mumble that I love you because
I do.
(the sweetest procrastinator)
i love the new soap
sweet ridicule Feb 2018
waking up every morning
I roll towards you

sleepy and sweet you
hum softly like a bumblebee

and pull me into your chest
warm and bare; sugary earth smelling

I catch your cheeks in my hands
your bubblegum lips, soft

morning smells tired (patience)
so ideally we could just

stay here.
sweet ridicule Dec 2017
swimming behind porcelain eyes
(I have always hated porcelain)
you are hard like ice
a cold arrangement of confusion
permeating the things you touch like
poison (ivy)
I am helpless when it comes
to this
an inside out a promise
clawing for something (but what is it)
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