Here is a solid floor to dream upon.
I.
We are caught.
We say we can't
let each other go,
so let's not.
II.
Cocooned,
we will watch
film noir,
and kiss and
kill and kiss
and bang bang.
III.
I am straight-edge
on making you
hell-bent.
IV.
You are a
four-lead clover
in a tree-leafed
existence.
V.
I get flighty, sometimes.
This skin is too tight for
the birds in my chest.
VI.
I been through
your cool social graces.
I am caught in the
whitest darkness.
VII.
Sometimes,
there is nothing
to forget and
everything to
remember.
VIII.
Thinking of us
vertically is enough
to give me vertigo.
IX.
A thousand thunderstorms later,
I am still your 2 am lullaby.
X.
For all I know,
I don't know.
And maybe,
I don't have to.
A grid of layered thoughts.
I.
You speak in sun yellow.
I dream in wine red.
Tomorrow is whenever we don't
want to do it now.
II.
You are the second before the back arches.
I am the space between two hesitenthesitant lips.
III.
I tenderly,
unquestionably
turn you to gray,
and then we fall
like rain.
IV.
Uncertainty
arrests the senses,
butbut fear is not a crime.
V.
Romance twisted into
our pulse lines,
disguising us as
December rain.
VI.
I am rocked.
Settle me.
VII.
Give me rum
with lipstick kisses
and a girl with
sepia-drenched hair.
VII.
Love reminds me
of explosions
and waking up
around noon.
IX.
Consider us a cliche,
like the birds and the bees,
kites caught in trees,
a begger on his knees.
X.
Inspiration
returns to me
on the fire-kissed wings
of a symphony.
