Lovers on Fingertips
It isn’t the lust of relationships
that I crave
No,
I crave the fingertips.
The feeling of your hands,
brushing over limbs and lips
entwining hands.
The caressing of fingertips,
the indentation on my skin.
The stroke of a hand onto parchment
while writing love notes
as your fingers linger on every letter.
There are moments,
when I will run my thumb
along the pads of my fingertips.
When I know my future lover
is just out of the grasp,
of the tips
of my fingers.
Seattle Lover
I left part of my heart
In a city I have never been
We dreamed of leaving
For Seattle
Maybe it was the timing
That never lined up
Or the other women
Who laid in your bed
Iv burned the ideas
Of houses
With white picket fences
On the coast
Of the oppose side
Of this country
A part of me
Will love you in Seattle
In a different reality
I wonder if we ever built the house
I wonder
...
If we ever would have
Gotten sick of the rain there
I Left My Voice In Your Bed
I wonder if you can hear me…
The graveling of words
through a voice lost in pillows and comforters.
I mouth your name
through breaths of a cold apartment
I think I left my voice there.
I wonder if you can hear me…
As I trace the vowels
of sweet words, I said to you
as I make my way back home.
I am now looking for my voice
unpacking my bag wondering where I misplaced it,
maybe I left my voice
in your apartment as we said goodbye.
I hope you open your windows,
so the voice that called you breathtaking
can seep out into the air.
I’d like to have my voice back here
back home.
Maybe I left it where I want to be,
and maybe…
That’s why I left it there.
Her
The day you died felt like it spanned over a month.
Sunday morning sermon echoed through a house
too weary to worship.
I only hope you heard it,
while you were slowly slipping away.
The afternoon crept in and,
your breathing had slowed.
The air was thick in the early August weather,
humming from an old air conditioner murmured
you were still
just as you were in your hospital bed.
It had been four days since I left your side.
The priest had made it back to do one last blessing,
you slipped away late afternoon,
as the sky opened and it poured
while the sun shone through clouds.
I got you ready for the mortician.
You were always a clean-shaven man
I made sure you were ready for company.
They make sure the family is away when the mortician comes so I called,
Her.
An entanglement who left me breathless
in a room where no breathing took place.
I knew she’d never be mine
but in that moment
when you came to my house
drove around our hands entwined
I felt we had loved and lived
our entire lives in that car ride.
Our love was only meant for a season,
but on the day you died
she was there
for the day that felt like months.
The smell of her perfume,
still lingers in that memory.
Smudge your Tongue
Swallow selenite
To cleanse your tongue off my name
If not with outstretched arms
I will grasps what’s mine
Through your throat
Check what beats beneath your rib cage
Tell you tarot card secrets
Tongues can’t be bitten
When they lay in glass jars
I love yours now
Taste like biting glass
Sleep with amethyst
Beneath satin pillows
To dream of new lovers
Not yet forged in the stars
I am fearful
Confessing my name
Paint my lips black
In mourning of love that
once touched these lips
Kiss me with smudge sticks
Sage burning
between my teeth
So I know I know your soul is pure
Because I’m tired
Of lovers
Filled with stardust
Cosmic woven deception
Who slander my name
When I am no longer useful
Who’s Tongues I now keep
In glass jars
A Week For Love
What if I only loved you for a week
a clock set over our heads
as I fabricated what life would be like here.
Here nestled in a town
far away from home,
as I read books in coffee shops
and pretended that I belonged here.
Familiar with street names,
your street names
and your third-floor walkup.
What if I only loved you for a week,
and after that we realized our lives too different
the distance to much
you’ll never leave here, and I’ll never go there.
But what if…
in that week we loved and lived
like time and distance never mattered,
and then we neatly tucked away our love
into a random week to simply reminisce.
What if I only loved you for a week,
and I kept it tucked away forever.
What if I was lying?
When I said I only loved you for a week,
Eyes like Oleanders
Hollowness buried
Through my chest
were my heart
Once laid
When you left
Gravity settled back into my bones
I no longer felt weightless
Saw flowers in your eyes
Didn’t realize they were oleanders and foxgloves
Your purpose
Was to be beautiful and
Hault my Heart beat
Thought I lost pieces of myself
When you vacated my life
Realize I only lost
Pieces of myself
That were meant to decay
Like old petals on a flower
Not yet at peak bloom
Cut my hair
Embraced who’ve Iv
Been afraid to be
Call me jay
Stellar like the smallest of the Corvids
Watch me take flight
When I’m not longer
Rooted
To soil
That no longer nourishes me
Sea
Thought you were a boat
Drifting out to sea
Thought you were on your way
With a destination at sight
Saw you fought waves that came toward you
Admired your sea legs
Didn’t realize when I came abord
You were weary of change
You became angry
When I notice your anchor was casted
Content with stagnation
Told me we were to different captains
I liked going fast and riding the sea
And you were happy were you were
Flailing off the boat
I plummeted
I fear not to sea
I fear not motion
But stagnation
I fear the quietness of nature
I won’t drop anchor
Call it risky
Call it bad piloting
But at least I’ll never be
Just a few yards
Into the sea
Who mascardes as a captain
Wanting to change
But fearful of current.
I’d rather drown
Than say in one place for too long
Sunflower
I am a sunflower
I am bright and beautiful
I am a sunflower
I like to stretch my myself towards the sun
I am a sunflower
I stretch myself towards the light
Forgetting like iccares that everything has its season
Those that solely pursue the sun will get burned.
I am a sunflower
Sometimes the sun that my earth rotates around that I so desperately stretch to are people who can not love themselves.
I am a sunflower
You can plant me in soil that’s toxic and I will still bloom absorbing those toxics
I am a sunflower
My love are my seeds the core of my being
I am a sunflower
When I am no longer beautiful to you,
I have allowed hands your hands to scrape out my core.
My love my seeds the love you craved
And salted them with my tears.
You ate so ravenously
And spit them out
I no longer wish you to be anyone’s sunflower.
The Gift of "Her"
Behind my eyes
The entrance to my subconscious
Is a window thick with frost
Nose pressed to the glass
Looking at the first snow in winter
I awake in the morning
Dreaming dreams of better tomorrow’s
I hold what seems invisible
The gift of her
Eyes Translucent
Transcending my past ideas of dying
Her smile makes Apollo envious
Her laugh contagious
When her hands entwined in mine
I’ll have known
What brought me here
I am grateful for
Our wedding day
Our rocking chair reminiscents
Our life together
I am grateful for
The future wife
I have yet to introduce myself to
Or have yet to realize I have met
Knowing one day you will be mine
If only for a moment
Makes me grateful for air that fills my lungs
Dear wife
Please wait for me as I piece together
Parts of me
Caving out my own wooden bones
I am still blooming
Dear future wife
I’ll meet you in the church
In the midst of spring
Hold my sunflowers bouquet
In your hands
I’ll hold your favorite flower in mine