Bite a strawberry in June and try to tell me you can't taste color.
A quiet lapping sea sloshes pink foam over crunchy sand seeds.
Stare at watercolors--make eye contact and listen to the breeze.
Maybe rustling trees are symphonies in green. Kiss me,
watch my heartbeat pulse and quiver, bubble through my mouth;
racing, hiccuping out heat from my throat’s abyss.
Smell my hair, breathe the sugary bonfire billowing from every pore,
pine needle goosebumps that rise and fall in Redwood symmetry.
I'll visit your grave, dragging a Santa sack of rotting flowers in my brain,
and (pretend I don’t) feel and hear and smell and see everything
and nothing all at once.

not every touch is there to scar you,

some are there to hold you

and you cannot shield yourself away out of fear that every touch is going to leave you crawling in your own skin from the itching and itching and burning and burning

because then, then you miss out on the really ******* good touches

the touches that ignite a fire inside of you that you hope keeps burning and burning and ******* burning

because it doesn't itch, somehow it soothes. it burns and it soothes and you've never felt anything like it and there are no scars, just a house on fire and every time a window smashes the exhilaration and adrenaline and exhilaration and adrenaline pours out of you and into you all at the same time.

fireworks do not compare to the explosion of endorphins, ramshackled and rummaging through you.

not every touch is there to scar you,

some are there to hold you.

They say love's a beauty
But beauty's at the beholders'
They swear the heart's not a bone
Why then does it get to be broken

The lover becomes the unloved
Laughters into happily never afters
Sweet dreams to sleepless nights

Can someone please tell me how
I'm just coming to the realization
That one plus one can never be one?

Mind for lease;
Heart's up for sale
Lock up my senses too
And every feeling, without bail.

.....I miss having your lips on mine
and your hips on mine.
     The echo of you
on me,
lives on in all my senses
     in memory

it's like a fog that creeps in very quietly.
a smoke that climbs up the walls like greedy vines
takes over the whole room beat by beat
it licks at my feet and in the next second it nips at my neck,
seizes up around my throat,
gets its way in:
it's hunger.
it's pure, raw, bare and violent hunger.
cravings that tear and scream at my fingers
true desire that claws its way up my thighs,
leaves harsh marks and bruises.

it's knocking at my brain, these thoughts
thoughts so red, like thick blood dripping through my lips,
thoughts of those eyes of yours,
that look you give
when you know it's me,
that i am the one for your fire
and you are my smoke.

it's something i want to taste more than the forbidden apple:
(i put that to shame,
i make the serpent jealous)
my hunger is so vicious,
it blocks my vision and numbs my conscience.
it is so true it is an explosion,
a burst of stars and little flames,
that ignores the entirety of time and space,
flows through it so fast it feels slow,
and i get lost in it, i turn drunk and hazy-eyed.
it is everything i need;

and if this smoke suffocates me, then so be it:
my lungs will say praise nonetheless,
they'll worship their own killer
without a hint of shame.

It's the grey of the sky
That takes my breath away
It's the blue of the day
That's stolen by the rain

it's the thirsty lake that is replenished with every drop
The smile of the clouds that darken their gaze
Or the misty aura that wraps up your skin
It's the way you're lost in the haze

And once it has drizzled it starts to pour
The winds came up and brushed us with hail
But then the ice softens when it touches the ground
The world might be strong but it's already frail

its the people.
The people who hold their hands high as the drought drowns in their prayers
For finally we've been blessed with rain
It's the children who watch in awe as they're wrapped up in layers

It's the way the world watches as the sky cries
It's the way the way everyone's umbrellas are furled
No matter how busy anyone could be
We all can say what a wonderful world

My mind is evaporating, an ego going up in steam
leaving a fragmented self, simple and defined.
Sensory organs play an electrical melody,
as electrons haphazardly dance across my skin.
Thoughts bustling through neurons turns my mind to static.

I am endlessly thrown in the wind
Dreaming of stillness
Rain stop falling down my face so I can feel my own tears
Thunder stop roaring so I can hear myself think
Lightning stop brightening up the sky just to leave me in darkness
Wind take me to the island where I smell nothing but saltwater and sweet fruit that awaits me
Leave me with trees abundant with coconuts anticipating my conquer
Fresh milk to drink and white meat to eat
No worries, just the sand beneath my feet
Where Waves only whisper my name at night and in day, Sun makes me feel warm inside

I wonder what the first thing you touched was

When you escaped the womb

Besides your mother and father

Any other family members

Doctors and other trinkets that assist

Or are given in the hospital



What was the first thing you laid your hands on with intent

Before me

A piece of a butterfly wing

Your new soft Teddy

Glow in the dark star

Newly found birth-mark



I wonder what you have seen

Before you saw me

That has made your heart, your eyes, your skeletal composition,

your tremendous amount of insides

Flutter

Go off balance



New toy that’s on the market

A train set

The cute girl in your first grade class

That you couldn’t talk to normally

So instead

You teased her



What have you heard

That harmonized with your soul

Your ghost, your physical form

Before your left ear

Caught a trickle of my sigh

Soon my voice that would follow



A gentle lullaby

Your mother used to sing to you at night

Your favorite song

I can no longer remember the name of

I just know it went

“You are my peach, you are my plum”



What have you smelt

That is your aroma therapy

Or was

Besides my conditioner

And shampoo

My old lady perfume



Was it your own soap

A pastry baking in the oven

Or was it something I find foul

Like mushrooms, maybe

A scented candle

An old Grand Piano



I wonder what you thought

When you found out you loved me

Did it bring attention to all five of your senses

Which one is your strongest

Obviously it is not your sense of taste

Otherwise you’d love me more than her saliva

dentists envy me;
they'll never have an anesthetic
so aesthetically pleasing.
it feels so good not to feel.

i know all
the numbing products they use.
what did you expect from
someone so insensible?
i know no senses other than
taste, because girls
like me have sharp tongues
and hungry eyes that will
never get enough of anything.