e v e r y d a y

Alternating a remote understanding of your fucking

sorry, love, I meant feelings                                             

and your heart-pulse-beat-rate

              waiting

                           harting-hearting-hurting-burning
and pushing my way                                                   into your pockets

i'm trying to push you past
                              my past in order to

              learn a 

thing

or 

two

about

your

     m   a    y    b   e 

yes or

yes yes yes 

and 

breathing for                                 the sake                           of wanting to hold you

tighter

than when you fucked me before when my eyes were closed and your hands had closed and i was close and you were closer

and i was choking on your silence the same way that i was swallowing my inhibitions

and realizing

[even though I thought I finished an hour before]

e v e r y d a y 

i love you a little more than i did the day before

and it'll be a masterpiece 

when my tongue 

tastes you 

tasting it

back.

if i could pour candy dreams into your mind and kiss all your longing

i would never stop

finger bells

terrifyingly correct when we finally decided to kick it off
and the sonic
bionic
boom
hit the room
her k-k-kurtly phrased
k-k-klassically portrayed
jaunt across the riverbed
made it just as soon be said
to red
and blue
and black
to back
and true
but lacks
expansionist mentality
on the left/right bank
of reality

young enchantment on her fingertips rests like
magic beans
and tambourines
and
harmonicas
to guarantee she's a good kisser

underhand

born out of the nepalese enchantment that she wondered about in the springtime of her father’s latest fantasy, she didn’t know about the ovals on the dollar bill or the all-seeing eye of God. when she held the breath she’d been saving up all year, it pulled at the strings of her blackened lungs and made the stars in her zodiac wave at the coming sun. her notes were unreal, so ephemerally enigmatic and holistically carnivorous, so when she sang on the first day of the latest year, rocks rocked with her and the clouds harmonized in her eyes. 

he watched her as she mechanically combined her absinthe and coke. when he asked her what she was drinking she said, “uh….absinthe and coke.” 

he didn’t know if she meant soda pop or powdered rock. 

the night hadn’t fallen into the sullen listless dawn that it would eventually become, so the crowd retained hope as the ball dropped-droppe-dropp-drop-dro-dr-d off the top of the building bunched in the middle of nothing exceptional or extraordinary about the blonde, summer nighttime that the ill prepared were dreaming of. 

he held her hand like it was a life boat and he was the titanic and she could keep him afloat for a little while longer

she held his hand like he was a harp and she was an angel and if his melodious tunes stopped flowing she wouldn’t ever be able to fly 

when they found themselves at home again, his sticky chest pressed, nested against her breast,  they breathed and found breaths falling in and out of each others’ mouths, and she thanked him for singing and he thanked her for floating and then they fell into sleep like the children they were