Was lost, my heart so erratic
Split, drowning in thought
Never found, he emerged pragmatic
Shut, he paves through my struggles
Hidden away, We are systematic

I'm not going to lie to you -- this time
Your look is the gravity pulling me down
Body by self, smell hair in your armpits
Books on the shelf stare back, bare backs
Maybe stretched out, two queers in a **** affair
could be lovers over distance, for instance
Rap time's door wanting to find love in there
We're both too busy. Fat by pelvic bones,
Butter on the hips, love means nothing
to the moment's dissent. Get your grip, too
a palm to the face a squeeze on a ***,
how does it feel up and down a woman with a ****?

You're smarter and harder than all of
my experience. Tattoos in ChiTown, pierced
lips -- upstairs -- ******* cancer on the waterfront
Who's carcinogen? Whose carcinogen crush
on a T with a blunt is worse than the other one?
I got plain Jane I got ground game
while you got the stratosphere. I got mono
You got amory. I want bite marks, I want red neck,
I want dinner of insides with a held head
I want four legs opened up
I want bodies shared in trust

emergence is an act of rebellion.
our eyelids peaking open like rusty curtains
as we steadily count backwards
5 … 4 … 3 …  2 … 1
climbing from our morning covers in one swift movement
like the bold musketeer ready to pierce his opponent.
allowing the cold to wash over our body
towards the to do lists and outdoor morning mist.
legs miraculously sprung to life from our dreams
seconds ago resting in a field of sunlit streams.
allowing forced smiles to emerge in the mirror
if the natural ones forgot to attend our morning ritual.  
those cowards.
allowing our own smiles to send butterflies down our spines
if our lovers forgot to play their part.
those *******.

our routines steadying us on the road
outside the house
into the yard
outside the fence
into the deli
out of your mind
into the grind
all forming like some rapid fire kiss of motion
where emerging and departing
become inseparable lovers.
and we cherish this sort of alchemy
where our paints emerge as paintings,
where our words turn into poems
that string along
melodies
into song

for
the pulsing of life echoes within
calmly waiting
to emerge
from the gilded cage
we are meant to burst open