my simple response
“no.”
simply two letters
to your beck and call
is all it took
to immediately
come running back
to you.

I cannot express the elusive feeling
that flits across the branches of this memory;
A brief song of just a few notes twitter.

Suddenly, I am in a grassy field or I am sitting high
on tree limbs in the pecan orchards of my youth;
I feel the sun's warmth filter down, moist air softly on skin.

I search the recesses of the grey matter in my head
to find the exact expression for the fleeting memory
I want it to come back to me so that I can come back to it.

the bottle
your hugs
the pills
your kisses
the blade
your fists
at what cost do I beg for warmth

I was afraid of loving and being loved
I believed love meant consumption because I always let it consume me
I wrapped myself too tightly
around them
To be as close as humanly possible…
to ensure that it was love
Losing yourself in another
It was poetic and disgusting
I believe love was being everything
It was fear
It was a high
But that is addiction
Should love not be addictive?
Not transactional
I wanted to earn it
Now I am afraid I’m not enough
I always was
More so now that I know what love is not

Flowers dropping from a tree
White glimpses of light
Softly swirling, spinning, spinning
Gently resting on green
Time standing still for a few seconds.

spill, spill me
my intoxicating friend
your dark red lipstick
smooches on my tongue
take me to warm valleys
and flowing rivers
gush and pull me
my cheeks as red as wine
burn my throat and make me sing
acid in my cheeks
together we must dine
as we drink
the last of the january wine