do you think the sun appreciates his colors as he sinks?
I lick the petals in your eyes
everytime you smile
&
flap your eyelids like I’m something
worth the time to twirl between
your fingers
I’m not afraid of your thorns
your alabaster shadings tell me
there’s a note of purity
in the way you sing the letters
of my name in between
hours of absence
I inhale the pinkness of your laughter
I let it cut my eardrums
bleed your alphanet
swallow sentences of your essence
in ways the light can only shine
with the stars stuck in your teeth
your cheeks and forehead
burn my lips seeking the horizon
of tomorrow, I sketch pictures
of how they turn yellow when
I can only see grey
you are a culmination
of the reasons art exists
you are the reason shy men
pick up unmuted pens
you are the reasons paint brushes
are never cleaned
you are a soft strum on midnight
apartment steps with an ash stained
journal resting on feet
I have a handful of seeds
I ripped off the layers of my palms
I buried them
in the streams of me
just so one day they can grow
you can pick bouquets of how
all these seconds I wait
finally mean something to me
how the blood runs down
my wrists and arms wrapping
around the way your fingertips
never leave
how the way your sideways glances
tell me that you’re listening
to things you should’ve known
but we’re never told
how days are only numbered squares
how time is only measured in
late night poetry back tracings
&
early morning off-to-work-lips
rain writes poetry to the earth
I write poetry to you
&
there’s a reason
theartofmadeline
amandla
turnnoffyourmind
titsay
yousharknotpass
