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Literature Text
It takes a touch
to light a fire,
a circling thumb
on the back of my hand,
leaving burn marks
instead of bruised love bites.
to light a fire,
a circling thumb
on the back of my hand,
leaving burn marks
instead of bruised love bites.
Literature
Tinderbox
I left my deconstructed self
in tidy piles on your still-warm bed sheets,
not a bone out of place;
every piece of me sorted and stamped
so at least you’d see
what you were getting yourself into.
You gave me your fingernails;
the stardust beneath them
leaving gritty, sparkling trails on my palms
that made my hands tingle:
half panic, half desire.
I sometimes wondered how we’d fit together;
both of us quiet and awkward and luminous,
collecting kindling like belly button lint
in all our empty spaces,
just waiting to start ourselves on fire.
I hope you find a safe place to shine.
Literature
smoke soft
in the rush of silence,
twilight is found mourning:
a stranger's hooded eyes
flush with tears
Literature
gossamer love
you will love a woman
who uses the word
gossamer
too often. she will
diagnose dead artists' descents
into madness and laugh
too loudly at jokes
no one understands.
she will braid crowns of
flowers, she will write poems
in constellations, she will
try to walk like a dancer so
no one can hear her
leave. she will be
an ice sculpture, and when
she cries, you'll convince yourself
she's melting, she loves you, you've
changed her, you've
changed; she will wear you
like a comma, like
an incomplete thought,
like
a
pause
in her story, and
she will leave you wondering
what
you
did
wrong.
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Comments6
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I'm loving this series!