papa remember when you used to spin stories out of gold thread
the thread that came from your teeth
it wove me a blanket so i could fall soundly asleep
papa remember when late on a summer night
we danced to music that was alive and wafted in the warm breeze like night blooming jasmine
sweet, and crawling up your nose and infecting your head
papa remember when you said you’d call
that was last year
and that same song came back on and I was surprised to find tears sneaking up
on me
burning canals into my cheeks
because you told me goodnight
and never said good morning again
because you left in my god ******
sleep

i crave you
i crave you like a cigarette, to press my lips softly upon you and **** out your insides with one flick of my tongue,
to breathe you in and watch you dance about lazily in the sunlight,
i crave you like whiskey,
the kind that when you sip it, in a large bed with soft blankets, next to a girl that’s like an angel compared to myself
the devil,
it burns your throat and lights you on fire,
blowing up your stomach in one thousand different explosions of flames,
but i’d rather be on fire with you.
i crave you like i crave paper,
the soft, porcelain face, the dark dance of my pen gliding upon its silky body,
words twisting and twirling,
i crave you like midnight writing when the moon is out
and the air is soft and thick,
and the neighborhood is asleep and everything is white noise
but the scratching of pens and crickets singing in the east,
quiet under the rising sun.
i crave your skin on mine
friction and fire,
your lips on mine
smoky, drunk,
i crave you like freedom on a summer night.

i drew mountains on my ribcage.
they grow with each escaping breath.
i enjoy being naked and i will not put clothing on for you.
i want a cigarette.
my head is pounding.
or is that my heart.