i am not icarus,
but your heart
beams brighter than the sun
and if i could construct wings made of wax
to reach the heat of your heart once more
i'd do it before that anxious little *****
could even strike a beat
if only you would just allow me
to melt all over again
in the rays of your sunlight

i used to listen to you speak of icarus
your eyes would widen
with fascination and fire
as the myth reemerged in your memory
you spoke to me
with every syllable so delicately selected
and i would listen to you
awestruck by the way
you taught me your historic tales
you made time stop
while letting me experience
what felt like an eternity of bliss
in your sunlight
you crafted your word with your heart
and used your voice as it's vessel  
and i would sit there dumbfounded
so pleasantly paralyzed
by the pure passion
behind every single breath
that you spoke to me softly
each and every last one
of those nights we shared
your sunlight never failed to shine
no matter how dark
the settings of your stories were
but i remember
the feeling in my gut that day
the day i truly understood your passion
for that one tale
i'd still beg to hear you tell to me once more
it was the day you told me
i flew too close to the sun for your comfort
but when i soared through our sky
i melted so effortlessly into your sunset
but you believed my wings
were too close to your flames
so as i basked in the rays of your sunlight
you to pushed me away from them
so that i'd fall and crash
into the ocean right below me
your attempts to cool off
the burns that never were
you were petrified i'd be scolded but now
i've been swallowed by a sea of sorrow
and the lonely stars of the night sky
so frigidly cold
without your hearts heat
to keep me warm
i know you wanted to save me
from bearing the fate of icarus
but the only thing that's burning
is the hate that i hold now
for this rendition and how
i feel i'm farther from the sun
than the day i first dreamt to reach it

i wanna stand on the pier with her
staring out at the lake
and i wanna push her in
and then jump in behind her
she’s short
and she’s barely tall enough
for her mouth
to be above the water
i wanna hold her
her legs around my waist
and kiss her
while counting her freckles
i want to look out at the lake
look out at this town
with all the people who would stone us
and let them see us
i just wanna kiss her

Open-mouthed kisses
may turn it up
They weren’t blisses
but rather, corrupt
I needed ending
And that’s what I got
You needed something
So to you, good luck.

The way I expressed it didn’t fully
Make sense to my dearest
Who only likes men.
I’ve never prescribed to the scrutiny
Eyes of jocks eyeing us as they do ****.
I used to see red as a fad that
had past and a warning that I’m
Not desired;
Nor will be, no matter my try.
But I’m realizing now,
Want is deeper than thou who have
wanted me only in theory.
Fruity or trans, and the girlfriend
I have, each is queer and there’s something more in it:
Queers see women the same way
they view art pieces;
So I’ve always been Venus and Ophelia,
The Lady of Shallot— not some
acquiescent cool-girl
who’ll answer your questions of
***** hair and fair children.
Where a woman I knew
sees a woman as through
some man’s eyes focused on her *******—
I cut a fringe for the change,
And remain soft in shape
For these are a lover’s desires:
Wear your identity on your sleeve,
In the curve of your arm, on the scent of your hair and upon the pendant at your neck.
Like the romantics do in literature;
After de-centering men,
You can finally be free.