On perfect nights,
my room is bathed in incandescent hues.

It reminds me of white-vaulted ceilings
and
soft worship music

The air tastes stale,
Your incense clouds my brain,
While white noise fades away.

The hills and valleys of your body are my altar
and I fall to my knees to pray

I can't tell the difference between
your mumbled sweet nothings,

and

Hail Marys
tumbling from a sinner's lips.

Press my ear to your chest,
listen to my favorite song.

In this space we can be,
While knowing this tender act is unholy.

I'll kneel at the altar tomorrow.
Scrub the remnant of your touch from my skin once I leave.

You're a blight on my soul that I can't purge.

God.

My God.
Why hath you forsaken me?

Shapes shifting through the sheets
of paper, in my dreams
soft pillow seams, we move like a gentle
firey breeze -
your shape consumes me.

I have never seen volcanoes, yet my
thoughts erupt in shapes.
What is it to desire a shape ?

A venetian spell of curved brushes to cheeks,
dreaming of the days and weeks I could
lay, still, yet volcanic, staring opposite your face, in embrace and tracing your skin with my finger.

Like a brush stroke,
my muse

what is it to loose the memory of a body?

Every trace and touch
each mahogany blush
within the rush of lust,
a cosmic trust between body to body
and mind, to the Hearts’ justice.

A sketch,
first love.
I cloak and glove the painting of you
moving through new shapes away from
view, yet sometimes with solemn and blue, sly Fate washes water-coloured visions and crimson hues through my mind and i’m reminded of each line, curve and shape.

Oh desire ! What a profound honour
to know a body beyond shape.

i'm prone to doubt
so i kept a list
of each and every moment
that my heart (mind)
asked me if i loved them
until the entries were too numerous to deny
and all that was left
was yearning
and an answer i could trace
in real time

I feel like in all of our processing conversations
The ones we enter into with our expectations
Of coming out with definitive positions
You finish with the condition:
Yes. But don’t fall in love with me.

If I told you how many times folks have told me that lately
I told you my mantra after they said they wouldn’t date me
Maybe you would find the levity of folks breaking up with themselves for me

And saying “don’t fall in love with me.”

How long until I’ve gone in and through the all of the tumult
The stumble that humbles the pride that had been built from the rubble
And I begin the mumble of “don’t.”

When all I want is to break into a million universe pieces of dust in your hands,
but instead I’ll pretend. And before this all ends
I’ll be the one to take the hope
and break the spark

And exhale thinly through the dark
Please—don’t...
...fall in love with me

That nameless spark
The one that starts in your diaphragm
you think it’s your breath,
but it gets stuck

Chest—hot
Breath—ragged
Heart—taiko beat

But you turned away...

“Didn’t want to start something”
You said

“Smart for you, sad for me”
I said

...Incompatible, I rationalized

What to do now?

Did we dodge a bullet?

Would your woundedness have moved
Through me and left a mark?

Your hesitation has.

“Everyone is complicated”
You told me after you kissed my neck

Do I stay soft?

Stay open?

I didn’t know when you said “everyone”
you meant yourself

My heart is open and getting softer to
This unruly, textured, tender, layered existence

This isn’t new though

It’s always been a giant beating thing.

It beat for acceptance and praise and approval
As if those things were Love
As if those things sustained anything besides veneers

When my heart beat for anybody but myself
Kids, partners, parents, friends, strangers
It beat so loudly that it drowned out
The sounds of its own losses

This time and space forced me to be so
Unraveled
So broken open
That the only beating my heart did at first felt traitorous

Slowly, slowly when I had no reason to protect myself
No reason to deny my small self anything
Because there was nothing left to grasp for...
My heart turned to itself

The things we built were on a rickety scaffold
stretched as high and fast as our love
when we got to the top I wanted to cling to you
and look in your eyes
and tell you that I was scared.

I’m scared.

And your eyes are gone.

The scaffold has tumbled
and the pieces are shiny
and sharp
and broken