Literary Sexts: August 6th – December 26th

We tumble together, a ball of limbs.
Mixed together with you, I doubt I’ll ever want to untangle myself again.

(Baby, This is As Close as We’ll Come to Being Gymnasts)
He presses his lips to my lips and it is like I have never felt balm before.
If I am breathing wound, he is living salve.

(His Touch is the Best Medicine)

You wake my body like revival;
I come alive gasping,
drenched in our new gospel.

(Dip Me  Our Sins Again)

xxiv. “
We dance in the storm like the raindrops are making a song just for us. I watch our reflection in the puddles and fall into the rhythm of this new lovers’ waltz.

(You Prefer Your Ballrooms Underwater)

The thought of you hits me like I am a timpani;
I catch my breath and the bass rumbles through me.
My pulses races with the snare’s quick beat.

(Drumlines Got Nothing on My Heartbeat)

Kiss me like Christmas morning:
unwrap my tongue like it is a present;
string lights in my eyes as if I am evergreen.

(Lover, Let’s Take a Holiday)

You touch me like paper mache; before anyone else can marvel at your creation, you’re kissing the strips away.
This is what I mean when I say he is jealous for me.

(I Want to be Your Give and Take)

You wrap me up like blanket fort.
I scrunch my face at you until my profile is making shadow puppets on the wall.
Let’s stay huddled together, claim we need warmth

(Lover, You are Most Comfortable Fortress)

You kiss me in the moonlight just so you can watch the Sun’s sister sigh.
You got her blushing red and I prefer to watch that over any sunrise.

(Our Love Lights Up the Night Sky)

I watch you speak in waves,
some sentences strung together like poetry.
I spend my days basking in their rhythm,
letting each word crash over me.

(With You, Lover, I’ll Gladly Be Lost Out at Sea)

Press yourself into me.
I want to feel the print on your tongue;
coat my body in your poetry.

(I Will Be Your Printing Press)

Flood your lips over me in currents. Make my cheeks blush salmon. I can only imagine the effect of our affection if we went ice-fishing.

(Baby, I Crave to Float Your Rough Waters)

Take my hand into your hurricane and let’s station ourselves like anchors in the eye together.
In the 90 mile per hour gusts, when our faces are plastered into Scream-mask smiles and our knees are buckling so that we may sink like the Titanic into this wind-beaten ground,
know that you, and only you, are the one thing that will forever knock the breath out of me.

(Lover, Do Not Shelter Me from Your Storms)

He says he has the hands of a carpenter, not soft, like my past lovers.
By this he means: “Not good enough”.
I tell him to carve me;
whittle me with his words until I am nothing
but sawdust kissing the ground and he
is the one sweeping me up.

(He Loves Me with Wood-chippings)

He collects my poems like fireflies;
pokes holes in the lid and says:
“This how I know I’m alive.”

(He Says My Words are like Light)

Our bodies are tectonic plates;
every time we meet,
California cries again.

(Our Love is Earth Shaking)

You twist my body like kaleidoscope and I am left seeing our love in technicolor.

(Color Me Desire)

I want to be your dream weaver; your midnight ballerina:
Let me pirouette through your every fantasy.
May the footprints I leave on your brain, make you smile in your sleep.

(I Dream of Us Waltzing and That Means More than Sex to Me)

You solve me problematic.
Using your black and white way of thinking, you turn our feelings into something logical, while your hands become variables continuously solving for “x”.

(I am Your Favorite Equation)

He calls himself cartographer. I let him draw my hills, my valleys, my oceans, until all that’s left of me is an island, uncharted;
hidden from his maps on purpose because I am his and his alone.

(Lover, I Am but One Man’s Land)

You are magician
and I am assistant,
anticipating your next sleight of hand.

(You Saw My Heart in Half)

You say my name like a gasp;
like for the first time, syllables have combined to taste sweeter than oxygen.
Breathe all of me in.

(You, Alone, Steal My Breath)

We close our eyes only to be blinded by the angels’ light. Choosing to accept their approval, we are left strumming each other’s ribcages like harp strings and scratching hymns into one another’s spines.

(Let This Be Our Preferred Brand of “Hallelujah”)

I want your lips like ink on my skin. I want your art etched into every inch.

(You, love, are a Pain I’ll Tolerate)

Enter my body like casino;
roll my hips like roulette wheel,
draw cards from my spine.
You’re betting on a good night, and I’m all in.

(I’ll be Your Lady Luck Tonight)

Our hips clash like the fall of Rome.
With your nails in my back, I am an empire on fire; a body begging: “Ruin me! Ruin me!”

(All Roads Lead to You, Love)

Fold me like paper crane. Bend my origami spine until I can fit in the palm of your hand.

(Crease Me Beneath You)

Open my mouth like daybreak.
Watch my cheeks flood with both sunrises and sunsets.|
Drift your hands over me like shadows.
Bask in my glow.
Beg: ‘Lover, let your light shine in’
and never let me go.

(He Says I am Brighter than the Most Beautiful Mornings)

I wake up to you and the scent of glue. My arms pasted around your waist and the feeling of someone who sticks.
Be careful, love, I could get used to this.

(I Wouldn’t Mind Being Stuck with You)

My body is your mountain lodge.
Let’s share heat on rugs made from our shed clothes and I will welcome the goose flesh that rises to my skin.
If you are blizzard lover, I wouldn’t mind being snowed in.

(Winter is Coming, Gasping, Begging for More)

Roll me around on your tongue like candy. Stretch my body out like taffy and sprinkle kisses over every inch. Leave pleasurable bruises the color of gumdrops in places no one’s ever seen.
Unwrap me and savor.

(You are both Sweet and Tempting)

Pull me out of the woodwork.
Smooth my edges with your sandpaper mouth as we rub against the grain.
I am never wooden with you, darling.

(Carve Me into Something Wonderful)

I make my body electric rod every time you hold me.
Allow your touch to caress me like lightning.
Pray it strikes twice when our lips meet.

(For You, I’m Ever-shocking)

I want your hands roving over my body of highway at 80mph in the middle of a rainy December.
I want the mist of your kisses spraying up from the asphalt.
I want to be drenched.

(Go Downpour on Me)

Let me be your “Midsummer Night’s Dream”. No spell cast, no mule’s head,
but a fool for you, nonetheless.

(I Will be Both Lover and Lunatic)


You are the sunset in my mouth and my tongue is an ever anxious palette. When I blush in blue, pink, and gold, tell them it’s an outside reflection.

(Let Me Sink in Your Horizon)

If you are seeking religious experience, cry out my name.
I will come to you quicker than God.
They will light a candle for your soul not knowing how you only started believing when I licked you like a flame.

(Find Me and We’ll Make Heaven on Earth)

I want you to make me the cold that burns. Feel your showerhead cascade against my naked shiver.
I want your heat to bite my frost as we welcome the icy fire.

(Lover, Let’s Mix Temperatures)

Kiss me until all I can taste are galaxies.
Discover my body like a constellation and only revolve around me.

(Love Me by the Moon and Treat Me Like Your Sun)

Hold me where our rivers meet the ocean;
let yours begin where mine ends.
I want to go out drowning,
drinking all of you in.

(Wash Over Me Constantly)



We dance
as a tangle
of limbs,
knots rubbed smooth
and cut fresh off of our
tree like
I call myself willow,
and bend under your sequoia touch.

And I do not care
if no one was in the forest
when they felled us.

Because no one but us
should have to witness
the sawdust
split into stars
as my boughs kissed the ground
pulling up your roots,
and having your body meet mine.

We are natural galaxy of branches.
Our leaves like moons
as our trunks
one ‘round the other,
‘Love’ as sun.

And this is why trees have rings:
recycled promises
for all the things
they couldn’t say
when they were falling.
For the universe
of “I love you”s
that couldn’t be caught on the breeze.

Instead we make a bed of the forest floor,
pillows of sewn together leaves,
and pine needles as sheets.
Consider it lucky,
to have our downfall be due
to roots ensnared together
rather than by some
cynic yelling:

Just Carry Me Home Tonight

I tell him:
“We’re gonna travel this world
just you wait.”

And he laughs
like each syllable is promised
and tomorrow won’t be just another day.

And I tell him about how
there is ugly in the hills
and there is beauty in the valleys
and I want to roll over both.
I tell him to be my back support
when I am arching my spine toward the mountain
pretending that for a second,
I, too, can carry the world on my shoulders.

He allows me to think this.

I feel it when my fingers
twine with his.
I see it in the way
he meets my green
eyes with his blue ones
and we are the colors
of this mangled chaotic
earth that are most recognizable from space
and dear God,
that is yet another plane
we will one day reach.

I don’t know if he knows this.

I tell him about how
I’ve never slept by anyone’s side,
but there is something comforting in falling
asleep to the sound of his voice
even if my only reply is me breathing.

I think he knows that travelling
is my way of saying
“We will survive this life
just you wait.”

And he laughs,
like each syllable is a promise
and tomorrow could be more than just another day.

I sigh
and say his name.

My Goals for 2015:

Getting over you.

It’s not prettily strung together in poetry.
It’s not a voicemail begging for what we used to be.

It’s accepting that you have all the power and effort that I have to make this,
to make us work,
and instead,
you harness it.

You hide it in shadows
and pull me out
like a skeleton from your closet
to scare away the mistakes that linger
like monsters under the bed.

I make you feel strong again…
because whenever it comes to you,
I’m weak.

And I’m not…
I’m not who I want to be.
And I don’t
love me.

Because somehow,
though who I am and who I was
are polar opposites
you want neither
unless one is convenience.

I am not an ATM.
You can’t cash out for free.

I am an investment,
a risky endeavor.
You’ve gotta put some effort,
some time into me.

And in 2015,
the clock will run out
& nothing you can say or do,
no rash deposit,
no bail out money,
will be as good as
the love
I’m going to give to me.


“I want you to invade my mind, read my thoughts and fight the urge to flee, fight the voices telling you this is bound to end in tragedy. We will trace the desires of our past, follow it to new sensations that you had never imagined. I can take you on a high baby, just enjoy the ride with me.” <<<that's beautiful.


There is a unique satisfaction to the discovery and appreciation of a new kind of solitude when you are surrounded by like minded individuals who understand the requirement of space, and each breath you take finds new meaning, each song you play takes you to new territory.

We are searching for our own universes, trying to find the one who can lead us to unknown paths, because those are the only ones worth taking. We are searching for the remote possibility of our existence having more value than breathing, that there is more to life than simply living. There is a deeper universe within us, and I want you to come find mine.

I want you to invade my mind, read my thoughts and fight the urge to flee, fight the voices telling you this is bound to end in tragedy. We will trace the desires of our past, follow…

View original post 23 more words

Do Not Confuse Her with “Flora”

I refuse to name my daughter Ivy.
I refuse to let her cling to any
male that sets his sights upon her.
I refuse to have her twist herself
against the cracks,
always reaching
in order to be seen as good enough.

I refuse to name my daughter Lily.
I do not want anyone to
treat her with mockery because of her
innocence. I do not want them to
brand her with naivety because
she refuses to fall prey to their
dirty fingers and cracking palms,
thinking she does not know love.

I will name her Rose.
I will watch her wait for a suitor
that is not afraid of her thorns.
I will give my approval to the man
who supports her like trellis,
and praises her when she’s in bloom.


It’s getting over the fact
that I wasn’t good enough
for them,

That it has nothing to do with me,
but rather the hands
my eager heart
fell into—-

It has a habit of jumping out of my chest
when words tangle in my throat—-
This is why I run.
I am traffic jam in and of myself
and making eye contact with you
would lead to a ten car-pile up…
if my pulse could glow,
consider my veins overlapping sirens.

I’m all out for you.

Every exposed innard,
love laid out on pavement—-
roadkill romance.

I wasn’t good enough for them,
Their hands were smeared with the blood
of the past casualties they didn’t know
how to handle,

and I was left spilling over myself.

Falling in love with the medic on site,
locking eyes as he picks up my pieces,
places them in a box,
before jumping on an ambulance.

I am all burnt over scars
and possible carcass.
But I am not soulless.

When my body is left
to be peeled up off the asphalt,
I realize I was good enough,
but they were all
car crash