Dear Lover,

“ What would you do if you were in love right now?”

To sit and stare, moved weakly
by the breeze - embodying the trees fat with frangipani,
tumbling down. I am not bound by haste.
And we make the soup stock
from elderflowers and fish bones - brewing
the most fragrant broth to choke upon.

And may we gossip of Raphael,
of Michelangelo.

So do I dare? Do I dare
disturb the universe?
I push for this peradventure: for how
I am vexed by this certainty.
This vulnerability.

I would hold both hands up
in protest to heaven as my pot boiled over. Until
we are all foam.
To swallow this peach pit, to lavish
gold foil onto these incisors of mine:
I have savored rancid meat for far too long,
under the bask of supermarket fluorescent lighting.

I ignite; a dull glow.


i want
to get lost
with you
in the woods
for a while

i want
to climb a tree
and i want
to climb
a different
tree i want us
to look at
each other
while we sit
in different
trees i want

to memorize
your face i want
to yell your
name until
we are surrounded
by wild animals

i want
us to be

i want
to lick
the end
of your nose
and rub
my head
your chest

i want
to wear
your clothes
after taking them
off you
i want you
to want me
to take off
your clothes i want

you to hold
my hand and
break every
in my hand i want

my body
your body
i want
your body
my body

i want
to hide
in your armpit
for a while

i want
to take control
of a plane and
fly it into
the eye
of a tornado

i want
to text you
from inside
the tornado

hi i’m in a tornado
don’t worry
i’m doing great
how are you?