there's something special about a kiss.

the kinda kiss where you need a second.
the kinda kiss that makes you rest in bliss.
not the two seconds of ecstasy
the two lifetimes kinda bliss.

the kind of bliss that starts when you see them smile, and then see them smile for you.

I want that kind of kiss with you.
the kinda want you now kiss
the right on the floor kiss
the kinda I'm tired but I love you kiss.

the kinda kiss that is only for you.
the kinda kiss I wanna give you
and stay
stuck
two lifetimes

or more

with you.

etched across the stratigraphy of grief in those mountains of dread and valleys of sorrow
I waited for you
Building a home by the lakes of regret
Hoping they wouldn’t wash away
What I hoped to build with you

I wanted him
like a man drunk wants cake
not at all then suddenly starving

I needed him
against all reason
and every crash of the wave

I loved him
watching as then sun drifted into the horizon
Reaching for the moon

Only to miss it
And hopelessly

We both tried again

I can no longer
explain
the depths of the pain
within her eyes
the way the ink leeched
From her very being
Into mine

On these days
When the absence of you
Tears pockets in the fibres of my being

Time moves slow.

Because while the moments are fun
They could be better
With your laugh
With your touch
With your words

Like every molecule bound to my form craves the covalent bond that is being deprived

So I curl up
As if tightening my form could keep the missing from leaking out

And I envelope myself in the pieces of you
To stifle the leaks until
Your laugh
Your words
And your touch

Are here
With me

And the absence of you tears holes no longer

Did you want her to look like me?
Or we’re you just wanting something that was
comfortable

my darling, tell me
did you think your dismissal of my devotion would create the landslide of consciousness that would sweep me under?
did you honestly think, my endearing Peitho
that i would stumble?
like a drunk lost in memories of the past
drowning in the waters of murky dreams and empty promises
clawing and clammering to the foot of your obsidian base
to ask for tuppenece of your abject admiration

did you think i uttered 'too soon' under my breath when you walked through the doors in a Kermes gown to be the muse to all
beckoning the second movement of a symphony
drawing your audience in
that such suitors could claim you with mere words
before unleashing your cacophony of destruction
like you did for Cassandra

while you may have, incarnadine Peitho
the adoration of all
those that caught the taste of crimson across their tongue
when their drunken hands where so foundly engraved by your obsdian base
marred beyond admiration
knows what your persuasion
tastes like

There are days
Where the stellar sings quieter
Whether muffled by mediocrity or sadness
no one’s sure

but they continue to sing
regardless of the love in apartment 2b
or the abuse in 3c

the stellar doth not discriminate
it’s tune drones on

even when the world seems to go all wrong

so as the day continues
so do they

till the stellar no long sings
and they sky is no longer grey

There comes a moment
Where my fingertips
Can reach
No further
And
My toes
Can reach
Across the bed
No farther in your place

So I
must stay
Laying here
Where I
Can’t reach

The distance
to you

the gods should plead to her
because few things are more majestic
than the way
her back
curves
and her hips paint effortless lines down into her thighs
creating hearts
and the kind of shapes I could get lost in
until the quiet of morning
and the echoes of night

and you
you standing there like the goddess
Aphrodite of Knidos
drawing the softest curves amidst lines that make my heart yearn
for even she
murmured

'where thou saw me naked?'

you rest
effortless
making man fall between your marble curves
a beauty holding centuries of thought and attempts to simply possess

you stand

free against the attempts of man
their meddling fingers so often confusing the way your hips dipped and your ******* crest

shattering all ideas of beauty in the way you smiled at me
between whispers of curtains

and idolatry

when I was little
when war was fun and fights were competitions
I never thought
about the little girl
stuck
between the lines
or the little youngling
who was neither here nor there
but simply, was
and the world called loser.

As I wrote symphonies on your lips
And the sunlight played it in stride
time took a breath
and we we’re left to acknowledge
the way my hands felt on your chest
And yours on my back
drawing little nothing, utterly content
to rest in the breath time took
and murmur all the words the greatest lovers never got to whisper
while your green eyes shone
looking at me

Amongst the sneezing
the aches
and the hacking “yum”
we cried in laughter
and embraced the glory  
of that ******* sock
and snotty showers
and even as
I sniffled into that dq ice cream
with his nose nuzzled at my knee
I couldn’t help but be content
at your unkempt
unbelievably ****
layered white tee and
frying pan abilities

where does the weight come from
that lays upon your face?

why does it feel like, Atlas was shrugged away by you?

why does it linger so, even amidst the noise?

when you tell me “I'm fine"
but I can see the void.

when you shrugged Atlas away,
you should have told me… a whisper would've been okay.


maybe I could have held you close
or held your hands away

so I could hold the world on my own.

          but I can’t.

not when I know that this weight is not mine to bear. nor would you let me.

so I watch, as the weight c
                                           r
                                             u
                                          s
                   ­                          h
                                          e
                   ­                          s
you

crushing me.

Dear lover, such is my random wonderings:

the touch of the wind across my neck
and how it made me think of that night with nothing but some musty sheets and moonlight

I wish I could tell you
my dear
of how love should feel
across the pit of your stomach and the heel of your soul

my love
I wish I could grant you
his love to you
so you may know that love should not hurt
but it should scream and rage
as relentless as the sea
it should make you bellow and moan
like the greats across the chests of those gone

it should make you wild
wanting wind between your legs and sun angled on your back
no longer simply wanting
but craving mud between your toes

it should make you cackle
in the face of sorrow
because you would rather go mad than face a day without them

and some days
it should make you rest
between their arms smelling of a hearth and bourbon

it should swallow you whole
in comfort and meditative waves
bringing you peace that seems to only rest
in sunlight across beaches
where no one goes

Most days I dislike the chime of the clock
It reminds me time flies away

But today I like the chime of the clock
It reminds me that I’ve had one more moment with you.

Sometimes
I lay
And wonder
If liars
Are the only ones that speak truth

Sometimes
I lay
And wonder
If singers
Are the only ones who are mute

Sometimes I lay
And wonder
If I ever loved you

Sometimes
I forget the way your hip fits
and other times
I forget you like the heat
But never
do I forget the way you love me
in the daylight and in the sheets

there aren’t words
and golf clubs don’t hit hard enough
because at the end of the day
you won’t ever get to hold my Elizabeth or my Theodore
and I still don’t know
If I’m mad at
or simply for you
because you said we’d get to laugh at the way a white dress would twirl round as **** jokes were said and tears were shed
But instead
I just miss you

please
god please
come trace my collar with you lips and my freckles with you fingertips
because i miss the way you laughed along my neck
down that little indent in my palm
i want you to whisper to me
all we didn't get to say
as the night turns into the softest dawn

The lights that flicker in the window
across the foggy sea
seem to whisper of the lives
That were always meant to be
The whispering of a lovers flame
The embers running slow
The fog of grief that seems to linger
Bringing in the cold
I once knew the woman
Who stoked a fire so bold  
But the home remains cold & empty
No jolly sailor bold
but light still flicker
Across the foggy sea
a little mantle to others
those who were never meant to be

tonight is one of those nights
where the stars would’ve looked perfect waltzing across your back
As candlelight flickered on fingertips where kisses just passed
I want to hear every murmur and sigh
as you flick the strands over my shoulder
I know the whispers won’t stop till starlight tucks itself in
and our giggles and dreams echo till day breaks in

When the sun has yet to rise
And when your eyes remain closed

and

When your breathing softens and your shoulders finally drop every fraction of tension

It is then that the shadows seem to encompass you, giving you an ethereal glow

but you remain effortlessly breathtaking

dropping my thoughts, desires, and love at the nape of your neck

before my eyes close for the night

and I am lost in the comfort of you

I wish for you to love me
against the hollows an the bones
I need for you to love me
so I can be whole once more

he whispered
and it echoed across the hall
down my knees
across the teacups and the bookshelf
it rang along my bones
Beating against my ears

Till it rang empty
against the window panes
As they shuddered
after the close

the floorboards creak as I tiptoe around the hallway, thirsty for air.  

and I find a shelf.

not a big one, not intrusive nor flashy. but a shelf nonetheless.

and upon it, sits unique mason jars. staggered and scribbled with dates. all baggaged and packaged and wrapped up, whisked away from the world to sit on this shelf.

as my toes reached higher, my heart sank lower.

some full to the top, ready to burst. other nothing but drops.

but all dated and all saved.

I rest elbows on said shelf, pondering.

so I hunt.
for something to carry a load so heavy.

when nothing seems to do my hands reach, one at a time, traipsing into the yard with something new.

one by one I lined them together, neat, you know, in a disorganized kind of way.  

my nose crinkled and the thoughts whirled.

til my hands
reached
for the sleeves at my elbows.

pushing them higher to the sky I start to dig.
painting lines in the ground, murmuring affectionate coos to the earth that loves all.

my pockets empty of bulbs and seeds.

Hesitantly pouring

each mason watering a flower. each growing a new being into life with purpose and love.

Sitting back triumphantly as the tears forever water a garden till dry

do you think
sometimes
that when our parents asked us
to dream so big
they did it
so that
the achievable goals
only a breath away
were no longer conceivable?

In the quiet mornings
And the passionate evenings

I love you

In the tear soaked laughter
And the tongue stuck gnerfs

I love you

In the lazy afternoons
And echoing snores

I still love you

Because I am me
And you are you

So I will stay
Waiting for you

It was the way he smiled

and

i knew.

Sunlight trickles through the blinds
And I am enveloped
In his scent
In his touch
In his sound
And I am content
To lay here
For the rest of my life
With sunlight
Trickling into the darkness
And his hand
holding mine

I want there to be words to encompass the way his kisses across my collar feels like the nordic fires and metal smiths honing a blade with fierce determination.

the ones up my neck like the night the prodigal son came home. the oxygen in my lungs craving to be mixed with yours, to find it’s way home.

the way his lips taste the way liquor feels when a beggar finds refuge after a long day, craving morsels without sense.

the way his eyes furrow underneath mountains of wisdom from years gone by, like one about to decide a war, not the dress of red or black.

I need words to express the touch of him, like the celebration of a war over, when drinks may be had and songs to be sung, heaving great sighs of relief and joy for the future.

I want to whisper nothings to the wind and have it whisper back to me the echoes of his laughter across my navel.

but there are no words for such things. For the depths of passion are merely scratched by the word itself

there is something to behold
in women who scream
who feel
who revel
to cry in defiance with them
at the world
at the injustice

there is something to behold,
in women
by women
for women
of women.

I respected him for his ‘hmm’
Over and over
No utterance whispered
Or even shouted
Simply ‘hmm’
like the glass shattering
was of no consequence to him
just a ‘hmm’ would suffice
as the door quietly clicked shut

he loved me like the stars were inconsequential that night.
Like the only thing worth time was studying the way my lips moved and my laugh bellowed

I wanted to whisper through time to the little one running through the halls watching her parents have a water fight through the house; “you’ll find one too”.

Healing is not linear
I like to say as tears fall parallel
Why can’t I let that go
Loosen my grip
On the anger
The injustice
The lies
Why can’t I let that go
For every second that passes
Not the pain you caused
But that I let myself be pained
Over
And over
As the tears fall asymmetrically
Onto a tight fist
And his unopened letters

the letters drop carelessly from her lips

wait
not carelessly

calculated

waiting for prey

like a wolf under sheep skin

as the room is shaking with the sounds of laughter
full of all the people
all the things
all the excitement of new experiences
all I can do is giggle
fully aware that no one knows what each of us actually is doing
as we venture into the world

but we each know
we are not alone

I’ve stopped looking at you in wonder
not because you aren’t wondrous
but because I no longer see us as too good to be true
I don’t know when it happened
Or how
But I know while you rest this afternoon with hands on my limbs
I can feel the dust settling on a midsummer dream
and while the dream remains light, wondrous and new
The home I made with you
Was built slowly through slow dances and arguments and patience
Built by long conversations and silent smiles
Home with you
isn’t wondrous, it’s a cup of tea after a long day
Home with you is a choice
and I chose you

The fan whirls while the room rests in silence
That sound used to bug me.
The silence

It felt deafening
Too overwhelming and uncontrollable to be enjoyed
It was relentless
And I hated it

I think
Because it scared me
Because silence is lonely

To be alone is one thing
There can be noise all around you
But to be lonely is another

But
Today I sat in the silence while my fan whirled around the room
And as I watched you slumber

I enjoyed the silence
It was the ambiance to the sunlight kissing your cheek
The silence will always be uncontrollable, relentless, and overwhelming.
But, those are the things I love about you too.

So I sat
As the fan whirled while the rest of the room sits in silence
And the sound bugs me no longer.

In these moments
Where I crush against pillows
No longer to muffle sobs
But
To replay his touch
On my back
Where I can feel his arm
Resting underneath my head

I know

There are moments in life
we all have dreamed about
The cinematic snapshots
magically capturing that feeling
In a way that the world rarely allows

It’s the present moments

and I am oh so lucky to have found one with you

If only the films could capture
the imperfections of love:
like 3am arguments that mean nothing but a need to be heard.
When heads **** and clothes become struggles in the throes of passion.
the imperfections of the way you love yourself, but they love you anyways.
If only they could capture shuffles up stairs between moans and kisses.
and just capture the boundless love when love is imperfect.
If only.

Two coffees.

One heart.

Two grins.

One whisper.

Two moans.

One sob.

Two rings.

One bottle of scotch.

Two coffees.

some nights
you don’t sleep so tight
you relax into sleep
into me, into peace
and some nights
you shudder
and mutter
occasionally
some nights
you grasp me tighter
and others you seem afraid to touch
but a few nights
you settle
snoring like the ocean
and I sigh in unison
Knowing this night was peace

I can’t anymore
whether it be time a cross or sea
the fog makes it impossible to know
just where to leave
the words
for you
from me

And in the early morning
I lie awake
Watching
As the sunlight dances across his back and his breath becomes the undertones to my heartbeat.

It is then
In this early morning
Where the world has paused, still in frozen slumber
That I know

I love him.

Rain patters
It spatters
And sputters

it hits the ground with a welcoming groan

The earth
It parts
And makes a home for the rain

Because for even a moment the long lost lovers embrace before being separated once more

a child’s trust

as they trust jump into your arms

could never be sweeter than anything

except maybe how you smiled at me

leaning against the doorframe

like you could see

forever

it is in the moments where we want to scream
and yell
and wander the streets like a madwoman
screaming your declarations for the world to know
but instead
we must sit in silence
and stare at the wall
acknowledging paint flecks
like Siken said
laughing till you feel no more