"It's a funny thing about comin' home. Looks the same,
smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's
changed is you."
-The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.


touching him was always so important to me. it was something i
lived for. little, nothing touches. my fingers against his shoulder.
the outsides of our thighs touching as we squeezed together on
the bus. i couldn’t explain it, but i needed it. sometimes i imagined
stitching all of our little touches together. how many hundreds of
thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to
make love?


i'm a lover and a fighter. i get angry easily, but i'm working on it.
i party, sleep, and think too much, but i get my shit done.
i have a weakness for sweet talkers, but i'm learning and enforcing my boundaries.
i don't let many people in, but once they're in, they're there forever.
i'm strong and independent and i've been broken, but never shattered.


you always think- always speak- cryptically.
i should know that your not good for me.


my heart beat, beats me senselessly. why’s everything got to be so intense with me?
i’m trying to handle all this unpredictability, in all probability.


And so I fell. And I fell forever and so quickly at the same time, daydreaming whole novellas in the half a second it took me to fall, yet for one reason or another I never hit the ground. I landed in the arms of all those I had ever loved, of those who had slipped gently into my life and seemed to fit so perfectly. Looking around, I realized that there was always someone there to catch me, one of those glorious souls with a story to tell, those beautiful folk who have made an impact in my life, and it occurred to me that in this crazy world none of us really ever hit the ground. We can fall, spinning through space like mad cosmic Frisbees, but in the end there will always be someone to complete our grand finale. And we will spin wildly right into their arms.


in a sea of pulses
my heart beats with yours


we're perfect in a fucked up kinda way. you don't talk enough, but i like what you say.


what did it feel like, i wondered, to be kissed like that right out in public?
not like some passionate tongue-wrestling thing, just a kiss to declare: we are each other's.
i'd never been kissed like that. no one had declared me his, not for the whole world to see, anyway.


i don’t know when the boys began to walk away
with parts of myself in their sticky hands; when loving became a process of subtraction.


the strain of my eyes just caught onto the weight of this evening
these nights left me with the simple satisfaction
but the dreams i had were the ones that were bound to happen.


i want someone to tell me
that they love the way i talk in circles
and how it makes perfect sense.


i am erratic, can't break this habit.
my current status, with you i'm insomniatic.
my train is off of the track,
it seems delirious from my loss of sleep.
deprived, i greet the day, won't be easy to do.
are you this restless too?


i never knew perfection til i heard you speak,
and now it kills me Just to hear you say the simple things


my inner demons compel me to be here.
your cheeks are flush, like rose petals.
you're consumed with rage, but i'm consumed with you.


lay down my hand, the next move is yours as you undress me with your frozen eyes.
in all of my dreams i never thought i'd see an endless love to share my blue lagoon.


you are a rare lover,
the kind i wouldn't even mind
writing in the margins of my books.


and love, just like blood, will always stain.


if the mattress was a table top
and the bed sheet was a page,
we'd be written out
like a couple of question marks.
my convex to your concave,
and we'd by lying here
at the end of a sentence.


home is on the highway living on soft bread & solace
i guess i'm waiting for nightfall or a solar eclipse
& to wake up half empty
only to be filled again with mourning.


Morning came & I tried not to notice.
It was time for you to move along.
& the minutes fell like petals all round us,
like a goodbye kiss when goodbye felt so wrong.


i will lean into you and you can be the wind.
i will open up my mouth and you can come rushing in.
you can rush in so hard and make it so i can't breathe.
i breathe too much anyway, i can do that anyday.


i've got something sweet for you
and i don't care if it is more than you deserve.
i've got a lot of love and a lot of nerve,
so watch me while i take this chance.


you said,
baby, do you like to fool around?
baby, do you like to be touched?
i said, maybe some other time,
fuck you very much.


she's got a little tin cup with her heart in it
to bang along the bars of her rib cage.


oh, how i miss substituting the conclusion
to confrontation with a kiss.
and oh, how i miss
walking up to the edge and jumping in
like i could feel the future on your skin.


happiness is a handful of days away,
it's easier to count the days than hours.


somedays, the line i walk
turns out to be straight.
other days the line tends to deviate.
i just want to hear your voice
i just want to see your face.


"The summer when I was seventeen, I was so full of undifferentiated
sensuality that the world was a great glowing golden fruit around me.
I didn't long for love and nor did I need it, yet I saw love everywhere
without even looking for it. Everywhere I looked, I saw people
delighting in each other. But I needed no one. I was myself, complete.
At night the summer air breathed onto my face with such promises
of bliss that I slept in a deep swoon. It was caressed by the morning
sunlight and seduced by the long afternoon shadows. And I lapped it
all up in such a daze of sensation that I couldn't tell where the world
ended and I began. I was so much in love with simply being alive that
I could have kissed the sky."


the problem with me was that as soon as i started
thinking about getting it together, i got this mad
craving desire to fuck it up.


this is the story of the boys who loved you
who love you now and loved you then
and some were sweet and some were cold and snuffed you
and some just layed around in bed
and some, they crumbled you straight to your knees
did it cruel, did it tenderly
some, they crawled their way into your heart
to rend your ventricles apart
this is the story of the boys who loved you.


what is it that you express in your eyes? it seems
to me more than all the words i have read in my life.
-Walt Whitman