untitled archive IV – may 28 2014

come closer &
let me breathe my chocolate into your veins, baby
i’ve got the cocoa butter for your scars
and trouble like molasses —
slow & deliberate; sticky & sweet
lover, let me sing you the lullaby you’ve been missing
with my scratchy throat & forgiving lips
i want to stick your caramel to my fingers
let me stain you with my darkness,
get your fingers wound around my earth
until we are only sighs in nature.

untitled archive III – nov 26 2013

maybe i am only upset
because you had the sense
to run
first.

untitled archive II – jan 1 2014

i think what is most interesting to me
is how some part of you is always touching me
even when you are telling me you are not
and even when you are telling me
you don’t want to.
here you are,
in some kind of love —
a kind you can’t get out of.

untitled archive I – jan 5 2014

i wish you didn’t have to miss me until i was gone
that you could kiss me with all the forevers you don’t know you have
even though they are not here yet
and i wish taken for granted didn’t have to be a thing
i wish hindsight was really only foresight the day after and not
weeks and months and thousands of miles
i wish the word love couldn’t be translated in so many ways
i wish it was as warm and gooey and intentional as
every time i say it.
but sometimes it’s cold
and flat.
empty.

call me.

when you can’t
wash out the bitter taste
the world leaves in your mouth
with creations you keep in the
yellow jug in the fridge
that are made up of different
things but always
always
taste the same.

residual.

i try to watch quietly
as you furiously scrub at your skin.
desperately scratching at my stains,
these tattoos you had
never consented to.
i am sorry, my love.
i should have asked
before i
loved a forever into your skin.

first & last.

i regret all the times
I tried to change my name
just so it could fit into your mouth.

untitled.

you complain:
“why does everyone only see
our painful pieces?

what about our beautiful ones

what about that time we laughed together

into midnight until the sky

turned into pastels and gentle breeze

what about that time we touched each other until

all of the water in our bodies

were at our feet

and we were too in love to stop kissing

for even a moment?”

& i reply:

“because even those, too,

my love

are dipped in my blood.”

dear moon.

why are my favorite people to touch
always
made of razor blades
& why
are the promises I make to myself
my favorite ones to break?

miscommunication.

you can’t hear me because i’m talking about
bathroom rugs and light fixtures.
i’m asking you if we’re out of eggs
and you are still wondering if that one time
you held a different kind of desire
is the last you’ll know of it.
you can’t hear me because i am deciding between
blue and green
so we can paint our walls
and you are still trying to figure out if you still
want the keys to the door.