I do not think that I am safe
because I love you.
You are breathtaking in the sort of way
you just never get used to.
The pulsing of your ichor heart is unhesitating,
relentless.
You are all red popsicles melting
in the heavy June sun.
Letting you rough me up a little bit.
I love you like a boxing match I won't win.
Fog so thick you can hardly see the ground.
Green on green on green,
and kissing with your eyes closed.
One emerald eye and the other gold.
Smuggling hyacinth into my spine.
We're going soft in the elbows
for having all the space in the world.
Your gentle palms,
your bruised knuckles,
kissing me halfway out the window.
In the low light.
With the wind chimes.
You,
sliding your ****** hands into my overcoat,
hurrying your mouth into mine.

I have nothing to my name
and I let you take it from me,
over
and over.
If I could be only one thing,
I would be your chaotic, chosen mistake.
I will be that mistake in any existence,
in any town,
in any life.
We are living in that moment
between jumping off the swing
and hitting the ground.
That kind of gravity
turns people senseless.
I will deal with the sunburn,
because neither of us are getting out of this ocean.
We are all elbows and spines and knees.
In our defense;
freedom.
Summer.
I love you right down to the bone.
Satellites crash red and splintered into us.

Nobody tries to make us good again.