Utopia
the center of the world is an obvious
place when your love is
adjacent to your heart;
in space.
like a comet, or a star
like the moon from afar,
the sun will rise
when your lips depart,
from mine.
alapocus touch
i’m going down stream if you’d like a lift
where the current is calm, nature’s gold sifts like
a windswept smile, kept us floating for a while
no wrinkles in our cheeks because age is docile
the air is a chill, so you can blanket my coat
(underneath a stream,
in the mud,
or in a boat)
i remember when i held you as youth bloomed its prime
your hands have always seemed much warmer than mine.
aurora borealis
thoughts of you swirling
the glaciers inside my brain:
melts the love away.
/
but when you’re dry…
i’m a body of water,
swirling you, to stay.
flos
remember the time
when we ate flower petals,
love is bittersweet.
attempting cursive
attempting cursive with a
broken hand, boat, and bridge-
crossing our hidden stream
of conscious, only
hoping you can mend these fingers as
we secretly swim.
oh the ocean took
for what it’s worth to promise a sculpture,
an inevitable invitation to be,
to be wrapped around ones
delicate finger, oh how you’ve consumed half of me.
appointed in the design of the architecture,
oh the architecture of you twirling me
to spin spin around my amorous finger,
your chlorophyll dances in the breeze.
oh how you’ve influenced my promises, and
those promises the ocean took.
but the ocean had it’s promises,
in the sand, sprawling
I awoke.
michaelangelo on acid
i think about the places we’ll meet
and the chances of kissing your cheeks
acid washed hands dance in the street
our fingers drag and point out a familiar beat
you’re the electric feel from m,g,m,t
you melt my heart from my lips to my feet
i’ll carry you off into a midsummer teenage retreat
too shocked to hear your impulse is me.
the nature of you
wouldn’t it be nice to walk on the moon,
to gaze into stardust-weightless and blue.
to feel free from the complex nature of life:
is there such thing as answering this right?
for every nature of you, there’s a nature of me:
complexity, the design of living free.
i’d solely walk the moon, composing the sun-
only to see the nature of such a question, i’m wrong.
mountain teeth
i’m cold breathe in the evening
i’m messy morning-hair after sex
i’m the smelly sneakers you walk in
i’m a probable cause of stress.
i’m the snapping sound of fingers.
i’m an echo in mountain teeth
i’m the sweat in your nervous fevers
i’m the one you’re underneath.
i’m the dial of every phone call
i’m the text of every send
i’m the reader of your daily life
i am not your lonely friend.
