When we were kids
they taught the raspberry things
dyed lips blue and rubbed honey
on before kisses, everything was
stale sugar, your breath warm
lemonade and red ochre arms
chilled in the goldenrod shadow

red cheeks heat cold tears--
open heart psychology
bloodlets winter cheer

You are unattainable
in the best ways.
Like the way I know
you'll never hurt me
because the possibility of us
is slim-to-none
and you'll never get the chance.
Like the way it's easy
for me to find you
charming
because I can't see
your bad pieces.
And the way I won't
be able to write about you
will be good for my brain.

Unrealistic expectations
are my forte.
I keep them in my sweater
pockets
for when I'm feeling hopeful.
And I get them out
against my better judgement.
No
no
no
no
no
why'd I do this again?