billow of sunlight, storm of morning
we knew about nothing—it was sweet
and we knew it too, we were bare-foot
duller then, much happier, apparently
it is much easier to kiss if there is no
proof of time passing. pleasure was a clean wound; i could touch yours.

olivia, i saw you on the stage today
electric breath i saw you bathe
in their viral applause; song&dance
kisses in the air hanging there, all silk fast fame frozen-over
a lake; all tears in spades, moss at the break
of your hairline

the publishers, they

like this

kind of

muck

about waiting

pining

being lost

i imagined
being up against you
the far reaches of you
edges, corners
multifarious beings
disguised
cloaked in skin
of you
i wanted you
to despise me

when you asked me what i wanted
i begged you, get the blinds
and so i used my hands to teach you
about your body, earthquakes, the divides
between us and mankind

crawling out of me like first light

the self as an expression of desire

dark with smile, a mindless flashing through

an infinite dryness of being

see my skin, i too can writhe

forlorn

like your fox’s plywood face

transformed into practicality, practically a pirate, notorious