Untitled

Broken glasses and perforated boundaries
wine soaked laughs
crumpled canvases
running past the past
like a bullet from the barrel of a shot gun
getting caught

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I Don't Like Holding Hands

I never liked holding hands
smothering my pen
in his palm
My fingertips would grip soft grain
search your skin for scars
ask the lines when they were drawn
cross them
kiss your calluses
bury deeper in those spaces
between fingers
because that's where I keep my secrets

Fracture

Scripted stones
have somehow found their way
to my collar bone
where your lips use to lie
from time to time

Bob

Bob Marley was made for mornings
For that slit between evening and dawn.
Like lash and lid, lifted.
I feel around in the soft dark
And find him--

Untitled

Crystallized commas
hold on to this moment
"you promise?"
before I dropped it
in a sea of lost lovers
and found
that you should find out
if you can fit
before you try to squeeze your heart in
you were always told
that it was too big

Sweetea

I melted your kiss
and put it in me tea
this shit has never been so sweet