The frequency of a kiss, is the rate
Of us both having a matching heartbeat
Rising vibrations; as my eyes start to feel
Baked; staring too long at the heat of your face

Catching smoke, in the fire of your lips,
Smokers count the puffs out of their vape;
Tears turn into vapour; vapours slowly
Become the ashes, slowly turning into waste

Maybe we're just wasting time, as we love
To just be sitting quietly, in this comfy place
Still, this feeling here, will always feel so great.
And lately I've been staying up way too late —
But did I at least tell you that I love you; if not
I'm so, so sorry, I know now, I was a bit too late!

Cos I don't really party that much; always
Taking my time to adjust to any new touch —

Cos you gave me a touch of a new Love.

Fat clouds scream, “*******!”
But no one notices me,
As the bus drives by.

You aren't here
You aren't anywhere.
All you ever do in life
Is blow clouds through the air,
Wasting away through strife.
You know your wife hates it.
You know your children do.
You know that all our money goes
To your selfish habits and you
As your addiction grows

I love you though...
I just wish you'd end this phase-
The one that's spending all our cash
And shortening your days until
You're turned into dust and ash.

You're an absent father
(MY absent father..)
Only here when you need to be
Then you're gone for the end of this verse
And most in between
Either spaced out, asleep, or hearsed.

is it love
if you pull me aside
to a room
to be alone
and play your song
softly
on your phone
and ask me to help you
write a poem
and you show me
all the stupid
lovely
things
you can do
with your
watermelon
vapor.

vapor
in the air
as he breathed out
and i breathed in
the taste of watermelon
lingering on my tongue

A young woman stands on the sidewalk
in front of a vape shop.
Her long red hair is the dream
of desperate men
that flutters in the cool spring breeze.
She fiddles with her smartphone,
her thumb quickly scrolls screens
in an attempt to fight boredom.
She's waiting, waiting, waiting
for her next adventure,
but those skin tight yoga pants
and her filthy sneakers tell me
she has a long wait.

a Norwegian
fjord did
cut their
axel's hairpin
in the
row of
tundra that
Lapland was
their arcane
balloon on
Aegean shore
if Barents
Sea burgeoned
dialect herd
yelp in
Mike Pence
with accord.