Bone comfort, adored lover

“The things we have in common, probably why we get along and also why we’re no good. The toxic pleasure in the mutual stroking of each other’s egos, shadows, soft spots. We are impermanent, so I can be in coexistence with you until we’re not. I look at you tenderly and will call you a lover for the rest of this life regardless of how, if, or when things end. I genuinely hope you’re able to connect with more compatible lovers. It’s one of the most pleasurable things, and good for da soul.”

“I agree Miss mulberry. Beautiful word choice.”

I wouldn’t call all the people I’ve had sex with a lover. The fate of my lovers and I tend to be bittersweet. I know it all too well. It’s comfortable having the dynamic we have. Like all, I see a piece of myself in X and a piece of him in me. He resurrected a part of me I thought was dead. He got me dancing again..

“He heats up and I lie down with him. Licking skin, fixing our faces.. He is pressure, I volcanic rock and I soon glaze over.”

I know I can’t carry X to the other side when/if the time comes. I’m pretty sure I want to grow, to learn how to relationship, to try wholeheartedly choosing someone and commiting at least once. To face my fears, and cast away my trust issues. It sounds nice, the vision is clear, the work however not for the weak. And relationships are my greatest weakness. Now I’m not weak, I’m just not sure if I can actually do it, if all of me wants to, if I’ll get the chance, if I have the tools..

Because if I’m honest; more often than not, I don’t want him; or anyone else, to be mine. A part of me doesn’t want to be wanted or possessed in that way either. It’s a vulnerability I’m uncomfortable with. It’s a sacrifice I have mixed feelings and thoughts about..I love my solitude and being my safe space. I like him and having him around, and the feeling is mutual, and that’s alright. being lovers is simple, freeing, safe..

“Play with me. Stay with me. Relax here..”

I think I knew this all along, and I know the longer we remain the more bitter than sweet the end will be for me. It was supposed to be a smooth ending, but I threw my hands up and gave X what he wants, what a part of me wants. We’re fairly open and solid with communication so nothing is a surprise. I know him and I know him well. I know our dance like the back of my hand. I am willing and leaning in. I can be here, now. And if we stay fucked up and never heal the parts we share, we probably will wind up dancing much longer than I intended…

I just don’t want another cold goodbye, or to tire. I wanna be warm still, tender still when it ends. I had a chance at a soft clean slate, but he is a charming woodpecker and I’ve never had a lover quite like this so I’ll indulge until I don’t anymore. He’s familiar and also unknown, and well I’m pulled…

“You help me see and understand nothing.. There is no right or wrong with you.”

..All of my lovers have a special place in my heart though..

“Love is supposed to be free not lethal.”

..I wanna be a better lover..

..I’m grateful and I’ll abstractly draw him and write passionate poems when the heartache comes and in the meantime..

“My love comes in all forms.”

Lifted

Hovering by my bedside

With some lips that tucked me in

Nothing special to keep us up all night

We made sure when we’re together we’re lifted

You

The mystic, the wonder

The ending of my cycles

Severed as selfish stings of venom

It’s you

It’s you

You gave, oh yes you did

Fickle flavor created my taste

And as my appetite fluctuates

I choose to starve

Washed over in drought

Sand dunes and Florida watered illusions

I see you

I saw you

I thank you

Persistent Light

The light stood erect in the moonlight

Attempting to project its glare

Onto the damp bay

Struggling glint cutting in bits and pieces

By the selfless oak shining in the spotlight

And as I observed through broken glass

I raise concern and a sense of identity with the persistent light

If I should admire all that survives

all that clears the ridged paths

In vigorous praise or failure

Tiny glass

My lover was passive

He was made of glass and

We didn’t appear full enough

Tried making eye contact in summer trees

Seeing we weren’t meant to become lucid bees

Just tiny things playing make believe

Reason

I always come back to sadness

Maybe it’s a shape shifting anger

Maybe we’ve hung her; together

But it’s all I ever knew, it’s whom I make true intricate love to

I inflicted upon me paired with hesitations and soon to be’s

cause well maybe I’m human

I sink through all your deadly seas

I sort through my pieces of wool and used flannels and cloth

And I touch the human in every passerby knowing it’s never enough

I touch the heart that aches with stone burning parallels

I touch the mouths through mountains of victims as the dead sings farwells

I vow to be untouched

It’s not enough to breathe in and exhale my stomach, my liver; my heart

It’s hard enough to wake alert and dress up the rest with the earth’s hardened dirt

Soul tied to a suit and some layers that aren’t mine

But to most it’s fine, some say quite divine

I couldn’t harm a fly; I wish to kill a billion

And so

I harm the self that promises to let things go (let things sow)

Burdened by the death of each solitary season

Hands pressed in pulses pleading to be granted the sights of a hermits reason

Winners war

I’m not sure of what I am feeling, my heart can break, my ego; callous
What keeps me asleep is a range to run
Emotional in wake I bake the sun
Holes of bittersweet spit up, you nuzzling my breast till numb
Turning in, on and off
Tuning off, out and in
I attempt to sing those sensitive songs, I pretend with oneself, playing once upon a time
There’s no where to go as my soul is magnetic to your salvation, even here the space of our bodies deafening
I don’t know exactly why this fight takes flight, ideal is a winners war; no casualties