i need to drown in your scent
to be engulfed in your presence
to melt in your arms
and become one with you

my girlfriend would wear baggy jeans – being my solitude, as a
faithful lover. it’s just the darkness she has in her genes. sometimes
I cut her fingernails, to stop her from biting them – she starts to bite
me instead. my sad stories are all reflected in her tears; she tried to
cut my hair, and cut right deep into my thoughts – I’m always
thinking out loud.

she sits on my lap, just to have a window seat; her hair is like a
forest, that the comb loses it’s teeth. still my fingers run through
the woods; dark as a night, where my eyes become her moon.

and she’s the wettest dream – a real sensual thing; being like a
water Queen. she knows I can't water down my words, or kiss her
less without our spit. “kiss me before we go” – even if we’re just
going to the corner store.

but that’s just the thing; I’m in the market for finding hope in
my dreams – for this person only exists in my dreams. sigh!

hotly simmering in my veins,
just beneath the surface.
i'll have it any other way.

making small talk,
i'm acting as if i'm not adraid.
but i'm oh-so sick of
the talking, dancing around, ghosting.
rinse n' repeat,
i'm gonna keep this away.

but i want it,
but any other way.
'cause it's so nauseating
chatting, smiling, being a little flirt,
then curling up in bed.

and it is still simmering hotly, in my veins.

i'm on edge,
this i must confess.
i want, no i need to hold her face
i need the stars aligned today,
the cosmos leads my fate
and i need her in this place.

'cause it's blue and gray in here,
but she's my sunflower
could order the sun to face her,
such greatness...

and i would kneel for her, would stand by her,
would leave the rest away.

so i'll have it any other way...

what do I do
with all of these poems I wrote you
for one, A poet does not love
she writes,
would she just destroy all the literature
she wrote
i don't know the answer

i look for you in the faces on the street
i ache for you in the songs that i sing

an out i didn't take
the memories unmade
a life we didn't live

he hurt me
but i hurt you
that's just the way it is

love in my throat, caught stuck, then swallowed--
dulled razor blades descend, hit my stomach,
and dissolve into honeyed drink that soothes me.
it is rough to start, as we may all know,
and eases itself into our core when we let the right one in.
and i did, without question. we may fight, sometimes,
about the silliest things, but that fire
is what heats my heart when i'm at my lowest.
she's beautiful beyond words, and sweet and cute and kind,
but never tell her that or she'll curse you with her evil
wizard magicks.
i love what she is and what she isn't--
patient (no), passionate (yes), and that she cares
about me in a way that invalidates my previous hurt.
i worry that i won't be good enough, that she'll find someone better
for her, or that i'll do something stupid to ruin it all.
but the essence i've consumed by living teaches me to improve,
compels me, not just for her sake but mine.
love is teaching me, warm honeyed drink in me, and i listen.
all that i can say after this is: thank you.