Newness

I would save your words, like a letter

If you spoke them

The way your eyes light my skin

I would write a prose that would drive the greats to their edge

I would illuminate my imperfections

With a warmth that allows acceptance

I would save your smell.

The way you say my name.

It drifts from your lips and sounds sweeter than anyone has ever said

But

I question the home it comes from.

Why?

I’ve been reaching out for someone like you for a long time

But Im afraid for my hands

They sing in the air, but what would be left

If emptiness was earned from their grasp?

The colors they’ve touched

Have painted you in a dream

And what would happen

If I had picked the wrong brushes?

Another Reason Why

I wonder

If surrender

Smells like your childhood home

Or if the cracks in the marble

Where your mother made you breakfast

Follows you

Like the apologies you never owed

I wonder

If stillness

Will ever satisfy your tongue

Or if your visions only merit

Is unrelenting weight

I wonder

When someone delicate

Makes you tea in the morning

If you’ll take down the vacant sign

And tell them your home

On Letting Go

How many times

Can I fold you up

Gentle, in my pocket

Before the creases

Start to turn callous and stale

And the sunrise you once felt

Looks at eternity to say

I can finally taste the horizon

Bare

Beautiful leaves your lips

As I gaze down to regard a body

That is not mine

But convenient housing

That keeps the winter in

While the warmth of words try

To break through its surface

Unmask

Feed me a diet of subtitled culture

Ill still be hungry

For the cadence

Of truth to bellow

From years of begging

To slip through your teeth

Rouse

I want you

to wash me with your words.

Pour yourself into me

until I flood from the inside.

and what is buried deep

aimlessly arrives at the surface,

begging to taste the air again