car tires made out with the pavement last night
she had so many lovers in those dark rainy hours
the sounds of their wet sloppy kisses on her flat chest
pushing their way through the cracks of my bedroom window
they were drunkenly unashamed of all the space they took up
on my pillow
snuggling in endlessly past morning
it was not at all endearing.
the salt that coats
your fingers
like grains of sand
when eating tortilla chips
head on
feels good.
it feels like
growing up.
to give people
more grace.
i didn’t realize
that’s what it looked like.
i didn’t realize
i could ask a question.
simply,
“how can i help?”
feels so vulnerable you just want to throw up
the days after
you want to see how far
you can even go
in pushing your voice
it feels like the sun
coming out
in an orange so brilliant and burnt
this space of Infinite.
Confident.
Courageous.
that comes with the territory
of starting something new
it will help you remember
who you are
when you get lost.
are printed in my poetry
I quote you
when I don’t even mean to.
I, miss, you,
and I don’t know
what
to-do
with
that.
trying to keep fragile things together
stitching wax paper houses
around small pulsing embers.
the beautiful thing is…
invisible treasures
hold weight
they have power in their own right.
love. peace. compassion.
togetherness.
they build on themselves.
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