what are you so goddamn scared of, kid?
put the pencil to the page
careful as a last kiss
and reckless as the first
dive
enveloped in the crisp blue drench that puts mufflers on your ears
locked in to the blinking cursor blackness
“go” she said “I love you”
what do words have to do with it?
they’re just shapes, after all
like the curve of your arm splayed on the pillow
and the criss-cross of fingers making lace of our warm meeting flesh
blink. blink. blink. blink.
I want to yell FUCK OFF ALREADY
but sex is easy
naked’s quite another thing.
what would it feel like to have your letters rippling on my skin?
the digits stippling my arm, publishing memories
pages I’ll flip back to again and again, dogeared and worn
until I know the progression by heart, recite it from memory
feel its phantom lines on my vellum casing, scribing pulsing
but I can imagine it so well, why would I jump?
still – would you brush away the dust, gentle as archaic dew? laboratory
love, eager to squint at the hieroglyphs, marvel at the history – blow
warm breath until it tumbles forth in hushed revelation and the specks
float skyward in glittering peals?
would you be tender?
put me in the cradle and rock me asleep
this world’s become too much for the daylight
blank page too harsh, but scribbles too ugly
and the blink. blink. blink. blink.
ever taunting at a constant ready for to bring forth BRILLIANCE
“it’s okay” she said “I love you”
letter letter letter space letter space letter space
tap along my spine and write our story, love
my head waits only for your hand
More poetry at Used Furniture.
I can feel the letters and the words as they skim across the cords of my soul