lavender skies at nighti love the way your hair smells after we've stood outside in the rain,lavender skies at night in Free Verse More Like This
watching the half-frozen slush slowly surpass our feet. i love how
warm you are to me when we've come inside after the sky fades
from lavender to listen to the uneven sound of wind against the house.
we feel so small and safe inside something that sounds so frail.
you're gentle like butterflies against my skin. against me.
you're floral and something sweeter, like honeydew dripping
down my chin. down my arms.
just lay here with me for a while.
i'll tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you it's alright. tell you
you're my infinity. with nighttime skyline eyes. and in your hair
there's butterflies, they're silently sleeping, quietly breathing
in your ear about dreams.
and when you murmur my name in the dark,
i'll fall in love with you all over again.
untitled nightsat night we tread softly towards the riveruntitled nights in Free Verse More Like This
where we undress.
everything is slow motion in the silver light
of one million diamonds
that glow overhead, and our bodies are feathered
we float together into the grass that stands tall
thick like a forest,
and lay with our backs to the sky, our arms and legs entangled.
the sounds of night echo
in our hearts, smooth but sharp. continuous but broken.
birds and crickets and other wild things.
we can close our eyes, encompassed in dark, and still see each others face.
smiling and sighing.
our teeth are white pearls, the kind you see around a mermaids neck.
when five hours come and go,
the black will turn to blue like the surface of the ocean, and slowly our cheeks
will glow with rose highlights.
our lips will blossom into warm pink buds, and our cold pale fingertips will become
gold flesh again.
i will touch your skin and sink into the many layers of your warmth, like
falling deeper and deeper
into a valley of fog.
insomniaci can't sleep becauseinsomniac in Free Verse More Like This
im thinking about scary movies
rough hands and your mouth.
the way it moves when you mumble and
the crease at the corner when you smile.
i keep singing the same song
by that boy everybody loves
about feeling alone, so alone.
so now i think about my life and how
it seems so empty for all i pull into it
and i want to cry but i wont because
it doesn't help at all.
i just pretend you're coming
to see me maybe tomorrow
and i pretend i have you to
look for when i wake up.
i can almost feel you holding
on to me, onto my hand like
there's nothing more real
in the whole wide world than
what is here between us.
im not sure where you will be in
the next days and months and years
but i can't sleep because i'm still
thinking about you and the way
your arm used to rest in the small
of my back.
and the way you would pull the sheets up
all the way to your chin in your sleep.
and the whispers that
passed between our lips
like the kisses we shared
while imagining we were
the only o
sweet releaseit didnt matter that you were grasping my limbs and folding them away as the water swept up over my face again. that was one more time than i could remember where i almost couldnt breath, liquid like ice filling up my lungs before you pulled me up again. pulling me close and holding me to your warm chest.sweet release in Free Verse More Like This
im sorry, im sorry you would whisper. and i would always forgive you, with a cough and water spilling from my lips, tears springing to my eyes.
and then down again.
the cold was always the first shock. and then after the fear shrank away, there was only the empty numbness creeping through my body, and your face looking down on me. and me looking up at your face.
and then the swirls of water would melt with the color of your skin, and your phantom eyes would burn into my mind. my eyelids would begin to close, eyelashes frozen against my cheek. and nothing but the last thing i heard would play as a hollow sound inside my head.
im sorry, im
handle with care.i got your box in the mail. the one with allhandle with care. in Free Verse More Like This
the stamps. it was bent and torn and taped
up again. so you've sent me your love? with
one simple instruction: handle with care.
i don't think i can manage two hearts at once.
so i'll have to give you mine. i hope you don't
mind. it's a little bruised and broken. but i
think it works just as well.
you have this idea that my hands are beautiful
enough to hold yours. well my rose colored glasses
must have broke. but you are still the sad and lovely
boy with the bright and passionate mouth.
friday night ghostsyour lips touch my lipsfriday night ghosts in Free Verse More Like This
and your fingers
cold iron bars
on my neck.
our hearts are the noise
the television fuzz
echoing in my bedroom.
i have the empty feeling
of a frigid night
lighting gone somewhere
beyond the line of sight.
were friday night ghosts
made of dissipating vapors
in the wind, in the wind.
lets split open our hearts
on the hardwood floor
and count every saved up cent.
cause now i dont feel
like feeling any more
sunshine on my face.
let's pretend...we are peter panlet's pretend... in Free Verse More Like This
and fly with a serious grin
straight at the moon
we play real life
and write lovely words
on each others hands
my only desire
we light the nights
flies of fire
hang them in jars
from telephone wires
we are white rabbits
plugging up wormholes
with whispered secrets
old fairy tales
we strap win
flies in the kitchenI can watch you from my kitchen window. Youre smoking a cigarette right down to the bud. I envy the way you can curl your smoke into little rings that swim up and splatter into fog against the roof of your front porch. I put my lips against the cold tin mouth of my Arizona tea and pretend its your mouth. Its hot like hell all around me. Or maybe heaven, since its closer to the sun. I can watch you from my kitchen window while I sit on the counter with my feet in the sink. The drip drips land on my toes and I squint one eye and aim for my chipped-polish nail. The weather channel said this is a drought. Everyones yards are cardboard brown and too brittle to walk on barefoot. I wonder if standing outside in the hissing sight of the sun would be worth the hope of catching your attention. I dont know how or why you can sit in the heat. With a hot bud between your lips.flies in the kitchen in Free Verse More Like This
Its hell outside. I pretend its winter and that the glare is the from the w