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  Oct 2019 b
alex
i tell the hummingbirds in my belly
to keep track of all the places
they've started fluttering

a doorway in virginia
where you stopped and gave me that grin
and i heard your voice calling me "honeybun"
for weeks

a couch in memphis
pulled out and covered like a ghost
i felt transparent as you slept
and rolled over to me
but you curled around me like a flower petal
and that's a smoothness
i can still feel

a backseat in south carolina
an alternating current of whispers
about things we can't change now
and jokes about things we
wouldn't want to

a living room in knoxville
your assortment of alcohol was
displayed on your cheeks
rosy and pink and i wrote a poem
about it already, about how
i wanted a hand on my knee
but i was fine with little giggles
on the walk home

on a plane in california
you were thousands of miles away
but i needed you to tell me
that i'd make it home safely
and you did

a late night diner on melrose place
french fries and opinions
i told you something important
and i don't think you've forgotten it

four a.m. in the back of the library
talking about biology
and our favorite things in life
we'd laugh until nothing was funny
and then we'd just be honest

in a booth in the middle of a mcdonald's.
i had forgotten this one.
i had been wondering recently
when our friendship actually started.
what were we,
before honeybun?
before sharing a bed?
before car rides home?
before too much wine?
before i needed your steadiness?
before too much backstory?
before hours of biology i never even learned?
before that first time,
when our group of friends
said, "let's meet at mcdonald's"
and it turned into just me and you?

when did the hummingbirds start fluttering?
when will i learn
that they're not going to stop?
jcl. sometimes i worry that you're my soulmate. i don't really believe in soulmates, but i just love you so much. it seems as if some things just fall too perfectly into place. i could talk about it all for hours, but i'll probably never tell you. i hope we're still gravitating.
  Oct 2019 b
alex
a coral reef would never judge me
for taking up too much space
it would just sway in the current
and tell me that
there’s a whole ocean out there
and i don’t have to settle
at the bottom.
i can’t remember what this one is about, i just remember i wrote it when i was sad.
  Oct 2019 b
avalon
apology... accepted.
how is it i am meant to return fire with
a smile
i take every blow with the grace
i could never find in you.
do you rip kindness out of me
for the hell of it
or because you can't find
your own?
b Oct 2019
now that we can be alone can i
pitch you the purgatory?
i think you might like it there.
there are no rules, we can just float.
all the things you ever wanted to see;
we can fly across the ocean.
you dont like the city
so we don’t have to be there long.
we can watch it from above,
make it look like a light show.
we can hold hands or we can try to.
im not sure what the rules are.
if i can feel your skin or not from there,
or if our hands will take each others space
like a woven basket.
but knowing i should be feeling
the vanilla of your hands
is enough to keep me in this place.
b Jul 2019
my mom told me she is too old to go back to school
that her memory is not what it once was.
she must have forgot that you cant learn if you are
constantly teaching. the reason why i know how to
love like my blood is draining and to give like
everything you ever touch might save something one day.
b Jul 2019
i fixate on a point down the road while
the story you tell turns into rocks
the tires of your three coloured car
trample over. i despise my need for safety
and i despise how i despise your recklessness.

whoever steers the ship that is my
thoughts and beliefs has been driving
a long time, he is tired but his
grip is firm.
i feel like a hack today
b May 2019
i am twenty and driving through the dark.
not really driving, im shotgun
making up for lost time.
driving through the dark, too cold to crack the windows.
the music blaring, we sing along so loud.
i am twenty, singing loud to the radio,
making up for lost time.

i watch the other cars drive past us
going the opposite direction.
why aren't they going the same way we are?
chasing the dead trees on the black night highway.

i hope they are making up for lost time too.
i hope they are going to drink in a field
or kiss a crush at a house party.
something they should have done awhile ago.
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