I water myself daily, play my heartstrings like a ukulele
the music makes me smile, my art child
I can no longer blame me, for the times you were shady
cannot stay hostile, the negativity is vile
I move on and I move in, to my new skin
I got into my groove and I let myself in
to the world of violins that play for my smirk
I was ******, hurt, and overworked
but now as I rest in my throne of pillows
I realize true peace as I watch the wind bend the willows

it was uncomfortably
hot out today

i put my cardboard box
down on the pavement
and squinted into
the midspring sun

grateful for the
knowledge
of the truth
the ukulele truth
and nothing but
the truth

like i could
scream every
johnny cash song
i've never learned
at every pathetic smoker
disobeying the signs

and i understood
oh but did i
understand
why they're always
pushing friday
on midweek radio shows

it's thursday
at 3pm
and guess what?
now we're free

(to roll in the grass
and soak up the sunshine
or maybe just
take a nap)

tell your winter
clothes where they
can stuff it
and your hick
christmas lights
to get lost

there's a pitcher
of unsweetened
ice tea with just a
dash of lemon juice
waiting for me when
i get home

and a cracked
front step to
nod off on once
it gets cooler

and even these
june bugs
out in may can't
bring me down.

It's not even romantic
But I'm going to write a poem of every boy I met.Not romantic,
It's not that I had met a lot of men.

On that morning
you played ukulele,
I sang along with the lyrics
Creep, Blur,anything

The morning light shined through your squinted eyes
I can still see the dust swirling, dancing in front of the sun-bathed face of yours.
Naive,friendly,happily
We were singing to each other
The other two are non-existence.

You are so warm, comfortable to be around with
A Belarusian boy ,aspiring to speak good Chinese.
You paint, you cooked and made desserts
Always at ease at hitchhiking
through Kazakhstan and China

I felt that you secretly want to try to escape from what you had
from Belarus to Czech, then to this mysterious Eastern world, a bit communist.
And then to Taiwan.

This is for you Ilya, a friend for only a day and night.
You're too delicate for me to handle as you have
skin like milk and heart of seven seas
Smile like a 5 year old in a swing.

I fell in love with the way you looked at me last night
I searched for the stars but only to find them in your eyes
There were no words spoken
Only music has broken
the silence of the night.

I wish I could've read your mind
What could you possibly be thinking
while listening to my singing?
I wish I could've stared for a while
But you might've noticed the
dilation of my eyes.
I like you, that's why.

fueled by alcohol
swollen emotions,
the age of consent
and mistakenly stuck doors
the mutual understanding that comes with a singular passion
singular desire
just one time
but when the clock chimes
1:45
and curfewed kisses are few
you take my hands and sing
"i want to know you"
my fingers weave along my glowing screen
praying your given digits will be well received
and when my phone buzzes
i sigh
for i had tried to not let doubt cloud my mind
but i did not know you yet
and it rarely happens like this
when the clock chimes
6:00 Am
my rosy cheeks wait in the cold mist
a note on the table excusing my absence
a pale faced taxi driver goes through the required motions
to take me to your warm lips
with two hours of sleep
your makeshift bed is the port in a storm
and your slight frame is the sort that initially misleads
but it is powerful and exceeds expectations
the sweet sharing of bad puns
disney songs
and the unexpected "i love you"
the "you have beautiful eyes"
and the mess that is my hair do
i wake you with a warm hand to the hip
and a quick kiss on the lip
reassures me it was the right thing to do
the twang of ukulele
and its warm wood brush over my breast
its hard form against my warm chest
you sing for me
and the poetry that traverses your lips is magic
though slight
you have no trouble maneuvering through my wide rivers
and hidden valleys
my small forests
you flip me with ease
a playful tease
tracing racing and running
soon warm water runs over our shadowy forms
because though forever may be spent in bed
the real world obligates us to move
to shower
in our travels we find ourselves caught in drizzly public transportation
making our way to the place of your occupation
though we are eating for two
you order three breakfasts
making up for the meal missed
replaced with loving
surrounded by kissing
you drink coffee
a quick pick-me-up
i drink a london fog
to remind me of the sleepy morning
and a quick peck to the lips reminds me of the rest
a test of my willpower
my power to resist taking you then and there
though that may have resulted in your termination
so i resist my considered temptation
i take a slight deviation
for every story must end
every sentence
no matter how much love
we must wait for blood
because every hook up,
every sentence
must end with a period.