I told her she was cute. She said, “You’re cute. For a girl. Look, I like you a lot, but I like to give head.” I lay down on my bed, I said, “Try me.” She said, “No, it’s dick I’m after, darlin’,” and she headed for the door. I said, “If it’s dick you’re after, darlin’, try my top dresser drawer.” “But I’ve got small hands,” I said, “they never go limp when I fuck. I got girl parts myself, so I know where’s good to suck”. She paused. I moved closer. She said “I’m not sure I buy it.” But her nipples perked, her pelvis jerked, she said, “I guess I’ll try it.” She stopped, dropped, rolled, paused, turned. And that night I learned that skin is where this revolution gonna begin, touching one woman at a time, showing there’s no crime in feeling this good. God would be a dyke if She could find someone to hold her, instead of holding her up as the dark image in the church of my bedroom she stopped, dropped, rolled, paused, turned, spread, said: “Oh god.” “Yeah, darlin’,” I said. “Anybody, anybody, any body can bring you closer to Jesus.”
They always smell nice. They always look at you and have that cute ass look on their face that just makes you want to kiss them repeatedly. They pout. They know what you mean when you say cramps. They are little and delicate. They think they look bad without make up, when really they look that…
I am open windows and barefeet and tea and open mouthed laughter and itchy noses and fresh air and take me anywhere’s. but I’m not sure what I can be without you, right now.
the tips of my fingers gently dance across your back, every notch in your spinal column is a memory i want to create. the space between your ribs was built for my hands. your body is an earthquake:
it shakes uncontrollably.
i am not your savior, but i want to save you.
i wrap my limbs around your frame to protect you from things i do not understand. my heart will pump life into your veins, when your pulse grows tired or week.
an ocean is escaping from the cracks in your skull, salt water traces the ghost of your smile. i am missing layers of skin, i am skipping heart beats.
i want to unfold you. i am spreading myself so thin, i will follow your veins like roads. i want to break in your arms. i want to read your skin and bones like my favorite book. i want to be safe with you. (I want, I need, I must have. Me. My mother says that’s all I say.)
never another waterbed.
the week where everything physically hurt.
the year where everything hurt.
pipes, lamps, lights.
fresh pomegranate juice.
here. have a beer.
cowgirl boots and sunglasses
"i had kind of a rough morning"
listen - dont talk.
"i am upset about…"
"you know what i mean?"
never another city.
The most comfy bed.
i wish i could anchor those feet to the ground. your eyes are the ocean, and you cannot swim so i will tread lightly and hope you dont float too far away, or sink very far down. i hope you dont drown. dont drown in this sun, our summer season has only just started. Days and nights and weeks and forevers. put me in your pocket, or wait for the next one.
I remember, we got dressed up to play scattegories with strangers. Which was really just drinking and a fire for her. we drove to the city, and the rain came pouring down. headlights flashed past and I counted in fours and asked her questions of how come and why. She was irritated at best.
I used to dance in the kitchen, without music. Making brownies and cupcakes because she didn’t like cake. I’d always try to make her, my feet on tip toes and my hands in her hair, spatula in my back pocket. I would laugh and cradle her like a child until she would shimmy away growling. Front porch, bare feet, cigarette in my hand. I hated always having to be the child..
Remember, the ball dropped, and the fireworks went off. She said this would be the best. I said, we are safe right now.