the Turkish coffee cup
shards on the floor
draw blood.that delicate porcelain
holds eighty-two years of life,
wrinkled hands, cardamom
coffee-stained
smiles and desert air;
a shattered mirage on
hard, cold kitchen
tile.a thousand fangs,
they draw blood and make
home in the soles
of my feet.
you were famished
from birth, waiting for
this world to give you your fill.
i tripped into your arms,
you came in for the kill.you bite
with ravenous lips
and starving eyes;
part of you is born and
part of me dies.
we can’t build a castle
from these ruins.
a foundation of rubble and sand
will disintegrate in
the slightest wind,
we will always be nothing
again.
you don’t know
what you want and
you don’t know
the road;
you’ve made and you’ve left
a thousand homes
to chase clouds that
dissolve in the palms of
your hands,
you’re here and
you are gone
again.
for you, i will
be what i am afraid to be.
you bring out the most
passionate parts of me.
for you i’ve dug deeper
into myself than i have
for anyone else. i’ve given you
the center of my being,
the tissues of my soul.
for you i am not afraid
to be raw.
with you, i want to be an animal.
i want my lips to touch flesh.
tonight, you are not
by my side, and I can see
death in the darkness.
a night alone
with you.
bright star, pale beauty
around which all life in me
revolves.
let all eyes be witness
to your light
in my darkest
hours.
i want to see all of you,
every inch. every
mountain, every forest,
every ocean, every river
and canyon. i want to know
every mark on the map,
and i want to fall in love
with all of it.
i want to see and know
this is where i belong.
that you are a part of me
as much as i am a part of you.
you make me feel
something scary and
yet so comforting,
consuming. you are
a contradiction,
a recipe for disaster,
and yet i love you.
perhaps instinct
trumps common sense
in matters of the
heart.
perhaps my fear of
intimacy
will melt under your lips
and i will let you run them all over me.
your breath, warm
milk and roses.
your arm, a barrier
for intruders-separating
us from the world.
i don’t know
the time or where
i am or what i was
supposed to be doing;
i only know
your heartbeat, the heat of
your lips, warm
milk and roses.
Silenticel 