and the way
I held onto you,
as if my soul would ache
if the universe pulls us away;
made me understand
that I have missed you
for a thousand lifetimes.

Ever seen a ribbed-up heart
full of bone-caged love?

Thing beats like a wild animal
stuck behind bars.

And it's always screaming
someone's name.

It was one of those crisp, clear nights
when the moon begs you to run away,
and the wind whispers,
"you should never look back."

Come to me, my darling,
with your pen and your paper,
so I can show you the true lines of a woman.
Trace my contours and follow my curves,
to all the places that you adore,
until your southern borders rise to meet mine.

Can your hand capture the motions we make?
Like silhouettes of swelling grace?
Abandon your ink, and sink into me,
like the universe crashing inside of the sea.
Rock me like waves, bend me like sin,
whisper your pleasure into my skin.

Come to me, my darling,
come into me.

And in the moments before she sleeps,
when thoughts begin to feel like dreams,
she often wonders to you.

She's a painter with her words,
but a clown with conversation,
so she stumbles through to give and take,
lost in ill translation.
So what she meant to say,
when she asked you every stupid question,
was she wished you longed to hold her close
with zero hesitation, and...

no ****** connotation.
Just the comfort of your touch.

We once orbited the same light,
mirrored as a faded sun
within our own withered hearts,
and fighting wretched gravity
for the sake of each other's love.
We now exist on parallel planets,
waving politely in solar flares
and burning black holes
through the long, dark nights.

I just wish you missed me too.

Your fingers dip below my waist,
travelling at a sensuous pace.

The lower you go,
my anticipation builds.
My heart beats faster
bracing for the thrill.

Your touch has me moaning,
begging for more.
Your hot passionate kisses;
I simply adore.  

I feel it, I feel you,
as I crest on high.
Only you can take me,
on this incredible ride.

Baby, do it again,
and again and again.
I never get enough
of this delightful sin.

Don't get too close,
they never told me if it's contagious ,
or not.

My heart is broken,
not hurt, like yours,
but it truly beats out of time.
It beats like a seizing drummer;
all panicked and hanging on
for dear life,
like two little sticks
can spare the strife.

He's mistaken,
that little drummer boy,
for his clock never ticks
the way it was meant to.
It does get bigger, though,
but they tell me that's bad too.
It doesn't grow like a flowering love,
No.
It enlarges like it's dying
from working overtime
all the time.
Don't add to it's burden, please.
Just take what you want
and leave.
Leave the rest of this diseased part for me.
I need every ounce it has
to survive as long as I can.

Don't get too close.
Don't drain what's left of me.
I need this heart to breath.

When night falls, and he drifts away,
she retreats back into her paper world,
wondering how long she'll be in silence this time.
She doesn't dare to bother him,
until he calls upon her first.


While his walls are up,
she remains patiently on the outside
decorating his world with words,
and painting the bricks that he calls home,
anticipating his return.

She waits for him, with a flame in her heart.
He is everything she wants.

An entire galaxy swims inside of me,
threatening to release stars into my very throat
and up through my trembling lips.
Comets streak across the darkness of my mind,
in frenzied attempt to come into focus.
Gravity lets go of my feet altogether,
and your eyes, like planets, lock into orbit with mine.
A single touch sparks the spinning of our world.

Your hand, to gently life our mouths together.
Your lips like stardust upon my aching soul.
Slight pressure upon my left hip,
as you hold me in place
and lean desire into my bones.
Coming up for air,
fingers raise goosebumps along the nape of my neck
and your fingers tangle themselves into soft, golden hair.
This space is to big for closeness such as this.

So, along the corridor of your nebulous moon,
and sinking into sheets with you,
I give up resisting this ethereal pull.
As the night sky watches us, in envy of our love,
we create endless constellations
of eager, tender lust.

Let's paint the sky with carnal needs.
I need your world inside of me.

Unfortunately, this world turns in such a way
that I cannot love you forever.
Whether the weather of our connection
shall run itself dry,
or the seasons of age
shall lead us to die,
I cannot keep you past my time.
As solace for the way that my soul does weep,
I've carved you into everything
my memory holds so dear.
In centuries, in moments,
in thousands of years,
you shall live on forever
in these pages right here.

You are the only home I know.

I will explore every inch of you.
I'll entangle the distance between
your lips with the dance of my tongue.
I'll count your ribs and locate
your vertebrae with my lips.
I'll smear my auric hands all over your body.
I'll paint you like a poem and
write you like a painting.
I'll form nebulas on your back
and study the origin of light
in your eyes.
I'll study the ontology of your laughter.

This is what I promise you;
not to love you, but learn all that you are.

Train stops.
Coffee shops.
Feet shuffle across the cobbled stones.
Flurries of sparkling dew are falling,
undecided if they're snow or rain.
It's getting cold out here,
winter nipping at our toes and ears;
pulling jackets closer,
wishing jackets were our lovers.

And there, in the warmth of a corner shop,
a nymph, perhaps, or just a girl.
And when she looks up, my god,
it's like the sun has birthed a world
of stars and planets, a universe,
held inside a sea of traversed
by love and longing
and patient waiting,
for a man exactly like you.

And as you reach for that thing you need,
what was it that you came here for?
Those fingers brush your hand,
and your head rushes in your heart,
and those eyes capture your smile,
and as you journey back to home,
the cobbled streets are so much warmer
as you pull your jacket closer
and she pulls you closer too.

Once upon a distant life,
lived a silken girl of feathery whims,
who loved a rocky, stone-faced man.
She waltzed into his courtyard daily,
and danced for the likes of waxen daisies,
pushing love up 'round his feet.
And by the changing moon
or the wispy wind
he finally let her brightness in
and he took her hand
in a petaled land
and they waltzed until the sun fell in.

.....because love knows no bounds.

Will you build a paper town with me?

Not like a landmark on a copywrited map,
but like a haven for our transparent hearts.
We'll make armour out of discarded parts,
and I'll fight gallantly for your love.
We can fold the edges, and bend the lines;
we can race the shadows and chase the time,
sculpting refuge from the bitter cold
of a rigid, solemn, dreamless world.
At night, the moon will guard us,
with a jealous kind of grudge,
grieving when you handle me,
envious of your touch.
The sun will rise to mourn me,
and lay you down in fields of dust,
as we paint the town with every colour
of our infinite, utopian love.

you said you loved me,
a single lilac among others.
prettier, you said.
sweeter, softer.
you loved my delicacy,
sense of solitude,
my endearing growth.
however,
sprouts whither,
and I find
myself asking
why must you
always turn back
to smell
the roses.

We lay naked
wrapped in sheets like
a caterpillar still in its cocoon.

And there was a storm outside.

But it didn't matter
if the storm lasted or not.
Because to see another day was
of no consequences to us now.

That night we didn't make love,
but lived an entire lifetime.

So, please, take my soul by the throat,
and crack my ribs with a fist full of longing.
Bend my body over the promise of forever
and take me down with a narrative that is ours

for this life means nothing,

     when my time isn't broken by you.

I breathed it into her,
as if words could heal a wound;
"Make me better.
Make me whole.
Fill me with your world."
And words became movements,
and movements became a dance,
and our hearts became the music,
and this music is a trance
of sinful, vile,
shameless, evil,
vicious, mad romance.

Come on, baby.
Tear me in two.

Picking up bottle caps off the city sidewalks,
and collecting pretty pennies in a jar.
Rubbing copper faces for luck
instead of simply looking up,
She misses all the billboard love
stapled to the sky above.
Weaving through the concrete streets,
dodging skyscrapers on tiptoe feet,
she's just blowing in the breeze -
sleep, wake up, repeat.
She's a windy thing, herself,
she's an angel raising hell
with the scent of midnight cigarettes.
She's a nightmare in a burning dress.

She's an empty wishing well.

if ever they come for the bones of us;
for the hearts of us;
for the whole of us;
I'll fight until my very last breath
for everything that is you.