strangers kiss
their lips full
of panic and desire

Your hands,
like moth’s wings,
pass over my cheekbones,
attracted to the light behind my eyes.
You leave a trail,
like dust from moth’s wings,
as you float off and away
from my life as soon as
the sun rises.

But such is a great story,
of two friends
who fell in love
with ideas
inspired by tequila
wrapped around the pleasures of the naked body

I wondered why this had never happened before?

You showed me your world
in your favorite beer
as I tried to show you
mine
in cards

but your world was better
more fun
adventurous
and blurry
so I let you grab me
and kiss me
and bring me to my bed
to share my world

It was a whirlwind romance
4 hours, tops.
I wouldn’t add or subtract
any time
you made me feel
like love was fun
silly
and perfect

and our story wouldn’t be so brilliant
if you were still here
you gave me one night
of the sweetest medicine
and now you’re off
enjoying other pleasures
with other women
in other lands
and all I can say is

thank you.

May you feel the hunger inside
subside by the tip of my tongue.

May your every fantasy and more
be born through the touch of my hands.

May you cry out into the night
that you might see yourself through my eyes.

May these moments be nothing more than love
when the morning shows a pillow gone cold beside you.

Amen.

Tell me you don’t love me.
                     and the fingers I run through your hair are nimble caterpillars
that are strong enough to fly away now.

Kiss me so I know it’s not real;
    that each lascivious touch is a misconception of realms where I may actually have stability…
   and that you’ll make me breakfast in bed by glowing breaks of auburn rays tomorrow.

Tell me you used me.
To make the no one you never had jealous,
and she’ll want you back by morning.

               But reassure me that until then,
we’ll embrace in parked cars,
as roads around us disguise themselves with a mask of slick ice.

  and each groping breath for each other fogs up glass on a 2006 Mustang.

Let me wake to the mourning dove coo,
and empty beds.
Let my hands bleed with fingerprints of the reminiscent touches of you,
         and hand me no cleansing rag.

Floating with a neon cross
I plug your neon holes.
I gross our incomes both
But watch you do it up your nose.
I wish you knew how much those boys just
want to *** on you then leave.

it's difficult to describe
why your body chooses to spend weekends
alone surrounded
by the slimy tongues and bottled self esteem
take another hit
while your mind explores the chip on his front tooth or the sweat dripping off his eyebrow
your body takes the pounding while it whispers in your ear how little you mean and you tremble at the thought of being handcuffed
you wonder if he remembered your middle name
Francesca
or noticed the way that when you breathe in your collar bone protrudes
ill ring for you

I’ve gotta go home and clean,* you say.
Clean my scent from your sheets,
I want to tell you
Come closer, baby,
Untangle my limbs and
caress me down,
orchestrate my symphonies.
Didn’t you see the stars, too?

I remember your breath all
over me
and how I tasted my very existence
within it.
I remember seeing infinity
in the golden hazel of your eyes,
those **** bedroom eyes,
soothing me past my boundaries,
hands pushing past my hipbones
and into my infinity.

And I want to tell you that I still taste
your lips on my tongue
and I still feel your teeth grazing my skin but
I don’t tell you any of these things.
I look you dead in the eye
those bedroom eyes, boring into mine.
I wonder if you’re playing back the scene
you moving over me
and I say, Okay.

Our whole existence
narrowed into one word
and in that moment I think I hate you
but the thought of your hands on me
still makes my sun rise each day
and I wonder if maybe
I love you in spite of
all the things telling me not to.