“Be gentle, be slow, take your time with broken me, be tender, don’t go.”—Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson
“the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh. there's no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate. nobody ever finds the one. the city dumps fill the junkyards fill the madhouses fill the hospitals fill the graveyards fill nothing else fills. ”—Charles Bukowski, “Alone With Everybody”
I want to love a thunderstorm -
an angry boy with thunder in his eyes,
cut glass teeth and a lightning bolt tongue
that sparks a fire in my veins
with every tumultuous kiss.
Or perhaps a boy with wildfire
flickering in his eyes. With smoke that billows
from the corners of his smirk,
and spills into the capacity
of my unassuming lungs.
Or maybe he’ll be a hurricane -
gentle at first, then crashing
and capturing my seashell heart
in all his saltwater love.