Seaside

Stars burn tiny holes in the fabric of the night and I exhale, the nerves leaving me into the bottle we passed around.

Roots Never Leave a Person

She loved to work creatively, her hands always busy with some dream needing anchored in reality.

You blew into my mouth then, and I swallowed, because spitting seemed like an insult.

Sprinkles through the rains of the mundane—reminding me you are the magic.

She makes friends with all things.

I intentionally move my body in ways that bring me joy.

As it is, She owns my heart, and my body collides with Hers every night.

It’s taken me all my life to get to the good stuff, and now I just can’t waste time on what gets in the way.

The sun was out, window open, and we sat on your bedroom floor taking in the music together.

I’ll justify my thievery as need and still ask you to hold me close, wearing something of yours just because I can.