we take long drags
of each others skin,
the addiction comes
in phases.
day 1: my lungs sigh, weary,
air does not satisfy,
day 2: we're chasing
lifelines, that are rusted
and in vain
day 5: bad habits are
hard to break, beg, at the
holy altar of our mistakes
day 8: hands desperate,
clammy, unfurl
like belladonna palms.
day 9: i hope your
vocal cords strain, that
the only word you can
bear to say is 'stay'.
day 11: last breaths
muffled in the
graveyard of a kiss.
day 17: darling, i'm
losing track of time
day 28: i'm finding it
a little bit hard to quit.

There are fewer things
beautiful than ugly,
I know that stars are most
bright when they fall
from impassioned skies,
That when your skin
meets mine, I am like an
amnesiac being returned
a lifetime of memories.

I hate few things,
except, perhaps, the murky
lakes of your eyes,
The misty beaches we
explored until sunrise.
How you pressed your lips
to mine like a death wish,
that it was deplorable,
but we wanted more, more.

My body was a map
you tore apart when you
got tired of exploring it.
The ancient psalms of our
tongues cannot silence.
Ruins of ancient Rome
survive on your lips, yet
you still live, breathe.
You call yourself mortal.

there are so many beautiful things in the world. I sometimes wonder if maybe it matters. like when I see the rain collecting into puddles on the sidewalk and children splashing around in them, or the sun when it shines through my window on a Sunday to wake me up. or the stars when you're deep in the country, miles away from the neon signs & pavement. or the sound of leaves cracking when you step on them in the fall. the way people's faces look when they're laughing, it's always different. the little crinkles & laugh lines. beautiful. they're all beautiful things. so spectacular that they hurt me, like you do. I can't love you, because just as the sun comes out, the rain disappears, no more puddles, and i also watch it set outside the same window. and the stars go away, or I'm reminded that the light we are seeing from them is so old, that those very stars are gone & you start to question what is real. the leaves & the people. what are they worth? we love to hear them both break. and I know you can't help but find satisfaction in the sound of my heart breaking as you step on it.

She's a leaping high five
with her feet planted firmly
on the ground

She is a crescendo of sound
and emotion . Puts her finger to her lips and shushes me .

She bathes in moonbeams while
tantalizing stars knowing
their touch is too far

She hides behind the clouds when
the sun burns . Capturing the rays and
hiding  them in kelidoscopic jewels she wears around her ankles so she can see
where she walks on moonless nights

She teaches fairies to dance in rings
and in return becomes the dance instead

She's the Cheshire's smile that
disappears on the wings of a firefly