why should i remember
to call you papi
or say te amo
when you can barely
remember my name

in the middle of my days,
in the most random
mundane times,
i find myself
deep in thoughts of you

my mind,
a portrait
of us

my heart,
a garden
where i tend to our roots

i am cautious
not to
snip at the buds
just let them grow and grow
and
grow

to know your skin
is to know the turmoil of creation
you are the visceral
the primal roar
urging its way out

i will shape you
mold you out of sand
draw your pleasure out
and ruin your salvation

you've given me a taste
so now i'll sniff out your blood
and crawl my way over
and snarl and scratch at you
and feast on your flesh

You are marble mouthed.
I used to curl my ear
Around your lips,
Conched in, to hear
The delicate manner
In which you spoke of me.
You coddled my name
On your tongue, separate
From the others held in there,
Pressed tight against the cushion
Of your cheek, so that
I'd never have to find them.