And

I kissed you and thought of Walt Whitman poems and how the moments we want each other most are perfectly synced in a firework display. 

(photo from tumblr) 

Conversations with A Boy I've Never Met (III)

me: I need to leave. To Africa or to India or to Germany. I need need to leave. 

him: To England, to Whales. You never will. 

me: No. I won't. I want to shoot every clock that exists. I don't want to breath or count seconds or days or moments. Everyone's dead. I woke up and had no sense of time. I don't want love. I want sadness. I want to drown in an ocean.. I want someone important to get shot. I want an endless sea surrounding me. I want to never sleep again. Never eat. I want a world without speaking, only movement. I want every shade of sadness. I want to run until I throw up. I want to show everyone what my blood looks like. I want to write and write and read. I don't want to sit in a classroom and nod anymore. I want knowledge. I want to learn.

Him: What makes you feel like this? Since when? 

After Last Night

I tried to bring back purity by 

drowning myself with

tangerines and lavender 

but they came up as 

us and I

My body has been on a funeral march 

since my birth. 

You are a king,

I am a slave. 

Let us find a path. 

(II)

I ran four miles. I made sure to count. 

I felt sorry for myself

then for you

then everyone after that. 

All the virgins, the very apple.

Every truck in America. 

move back. 

I apologize to every ant I kill,

to every flaw.

To every speck. 

When You Aren't Looking

My love for you depends on what shirt you are wearing. 

And the placement of your lips when you aren’t talking.

I wonder what you sound like when you are angry. 

My love for you depends on if I am looking up at you. 

And if I am able to smell you. 

Show me my place. 

Draw a line through my hands, dammit. 

Here. I won’t touch you. 

I will make sure a glass door is installed. 

No, a steel door. 

With a lock. 

My favorite smells are pine, mint gum, and your neck. 

You taste like flesh mixed with a sun warmed forest and old coffee. 

I could put my lips to the hairs on your chin for 2 hours straight.

wait. 

Let’s climb a mountain. 

And then lay under a blanket of 1 am. 

I need to ask you. 

When will I stop building spider webs, 

just to dissolve them like spun sugar?