cutthroat bed-warmer
i warned you.
to underhandedly procure
the duvet
in a dubious midnight heist
is a violation
of the “Pillow-Talk Three Truce”.
there are no second chances
in this
quilted coalition you concocted.
by daybreak, after a night of unrepentant tickling, kissing, or any some such
sleep disturbancing,
perhaps my arms will be laid down
in a show of piety.

to be the
little spoon by the afternoon.

i felt the cold
i felt the warmth
i felt you
we felt us
i am stuck
i was struck
why can't you remember
i need to know wherever
whenever
whichever
however
now that we could be never
be together
i am just hoping
this lingering
can stop
or can you scoop
me
us
both
in
bed
in deep sleep
please keep
me


xoxo

Every night
When I get into bed
It’s cold

But I no longer care
Because I can crawl into my bed
And hide under the covers

But every morning when I get up
It’s still cold
And this time I care

Because now I have to get out of bed
Out of my sanctuary of warmth
And face the cold, cruel, world

last night i realized
i needn't be dead to go to heaven
or be called upon by god

only your soft body

lying quietly next to me

takes me to heaven.

Most hated places i hate to leave.
Very few in square meters a rectangular shaped
It has its own environment from a tungsten tomas made sun
Probably Tesla if they had not shaken hands on things

Cage for a man of my diameter
One of the hottest places on earth
Even under the rain,
Tesla ensures sweats
Yet, they are not felt
, And dancing manoeuvres are limited

The portal for all
To travel from bigbang to sven suns
To discharge all emotions
To refresh and recharge
And the witch doctor to all evil

Second to none
Prehabs to the berth which is all angel
Yet, this portal known to both evil and angel may be the most underrated places in universe..

i met you in the middle of august
during the death of summer
but the birth of my life
the leaves were just beginning to turn
the shade of mustard
of my favorite yellow
the specks of gold inside the dog of my childhood
and you were a melancholy prince
a monsoon of everything I was always too busy looking elsewhere for
always on the cusp
now before my eyes it was terrifying  
I was too busy in my own sadness
always teetering on the verge of the roof
more mosquito bite than girl
when they asked why I was always writing
what could I write about if I wasn't ever talking to people
no sensory experiences but the ones I imagined
a shyness of a body
a flushing fever of a person
how could I explain
spill onto the kitchen sink gripping strangers' shoulders
crying I was in love with everything
and could that be such a bad thing
I didn't want to be a wound
but there we were
stealing groceries from the store and never sleeping
inside a romantic cocoon
I would go anywhere with you
be your favorite friend
a favored nervousness inside the pit of your amygdala
if you wanted me to