The days before

day -27 with him is distantly sweet quiet compliments under heaps of praise waiting for a chance. inconspicuous day -20 with him is hello normal and easy day -15 isn't with him But he still watches fish flopping in vodka and tonic citrus sour a quiet sigh No one listens day -10 she's frustrated possessed and caged he reaches out to the tiger watches her lash tries to carry her pain proudly watches her struggle day -9 freedom for her she's clawing at the dirt he touches her almost day -7 favors he does little kindnesses she sees day -4 he craves red hair and fierce teeth she consumes his mind red meat gray matters day -2 he almost can't help but grab and shake her, longest day of his life day -1 do it or else he sighs, quiet day 0 finger traces sinuous neck to fragile bone hazy eyes refocus his first touch is gentle a quiet caress she drowns in the sound day 1 she wakes chest heaving fingers chasing the feeling of lips ghosting across her teeth

There are words in my mind begging to be released Formless, shapeless, raw. There's a pain that sits in the back of my mind. the loss of meaning, the lingering of emotion. It skids like liquid through sockets and down throats Nameless, encompassing. Why are you crying? The plastic stars whispered She chokes on the mental block of thoughts long lost And opens her mouth to a vociferous gurgle

Star scapes hold the key to our futures.

the greeks cried as they look around in confusion

eyes darthing left and right as if that would make the

ordeal of revolving in a world that made no sense bearable.

The blind seeing braille in pinpoints of light

painting destinies on children who have yet to open their eyes

stories written in the faces of those who have yet to see the world.

Wrecked,

When I first saw you I was stuck on the black pavement, gasping in the ice, somewhere between lower and higher education. The sky rained fat with tears giant drops that covered us, like a mother that wept with abandon in a last embrace, serenading the asphalt seas in salt and sounds and shivers. He stood tall for a short man, grin goofy and wide, shiney brass and long twindls of slurs that rock back and forth like the mediocre drawl of the far off waves, smooth and charming and southern. When our eyes meet across the formation, earth and ocean crashing again each other in sensual cacophony, sight lines pounding, rain marching alone our eyebrows to settle on cold flush cheeks and swallowing throats. It was a second of heat or a sea of nerves flaring up like lighting. Igniting the Olympic flame in the darkest parts of me. The ones that rocked with every wave threatening to slosh it out, but never could. icy blue pilot light, crystallized, never flickering It was in that moment that we cast off, emotions like a maiden voyage, bodies soaked in adventure, in wonder, in rain. Hallways spent drowning in the perpetual flurry of paper touches and notated retorts. Vacationing in the moments where we found ourselves ship wrecked, constantly off course but cruising along anyways. Smiles and Bus rides stuck sticky to us like glacier silt, windows wet and cold from participation. Our bodies like the iceberg and the Titanic, ice blue and steel, darting closer and closer, frigid And unpredictable. When metal and ice touched we rejoiced in secret, until the passengers in your head roared with excitement, realized the danger and jumped. Evacuating the spaces between us like rain from the clouds, diving from your mouth to mine. Submerging themselves into my breathe, ice cold and probing needles under their skin. That little part of you, uncomfortably safe in the nestles of icy night and ice blue eyes, floated. Sloshing about on dreaming of home and why did we abandon ship. And I didn’t listen. So caught in the emotion that i didn’t realize that underneath me you were buckling, attempting to hold onto me as i punched you open. Until I sunk you. Deep into the emotional abyss of black top and straight lines reserved for the people like us. Those people who enjoy sitting half between education and freedom, the blacktop sea still cool to the touch, the people still calling for the safety of their ship, wet with rain that never actually fell from the sky,

The siren of married women And you come out of nowhere. Hips cocked and eyes flashing. Smoke stuttered words gliding from your mouth to fill the room with the sweet scent of chloroform. Destined to make any prey fall weak. But I've got resistance on my side. A cool antidote that theoretically douses that fire in your veins and brings the world into focus. Love is how they market it. Singularly, neverending and all encompassing. But then maybe this antidote's had some faulty marketing. Because if this love is the tonic that I need it to be then why do I feel your Incense getting to me. The sickening sweet spell we weave that makes me wonder how close we can get, before they call it infidelity.