im kinda stupid
What I said was I’ll miss you, what I meant to say was, I like you and its funny how all those things I could have said flooded in my head after we said goodbye and I should have told you that I’d be willing to hold you until my flesh crumbles into bone because I’m willing to die alone but god knows I don’t want to live that way. And I may be only flesh and bone but I wouldn’t want you to die alone.
I keep longing for the day when I can wake up and feel your arm draped over me. How I’ll love breathing in your skin like incense. And I bet you’ll never know that when I’m sleeping beside you i’ll wake up just to make sure I’m safe in your arms. You’ll feel like a mountain that doesn’t know its being climbed as your breath is timed with the in and out of mine. I run my hand up your spine like it was the center line of a highway with no stop sign.
I hit the intersection where your shoulders meet your neck, passing
the car wreaks of ex-girl friends who parallel park on the dead ends
and I just hope your skin leads me an extra mile so I can slow down and
admire the landscape. When it comes to your skin, I’m a drunk driver trying to walk a straight line. I’ve been pulled over so much that your simple touch is enough to make me assume the position wishing I could stay there where your hands searches my body for the contraband that could land me in the jail of your ribcage because road rage is a sickness and my medicine is your skin so I’m constantly getting myself into trouble double parking, merging without looking, changing lanes of each others veins. All highways
leading back to one heart because I end where you start. I could spend
the rest of my life circling your block wondering where does the world
keep its private stock of people like you. And some days collapse on me, like the night I can tell i haven’t
slept when the light peeks through the blinds and finds me with my eyes
open because I’m thinking of you. Hoping I can take all these poems I write on my iphones Notepad and
launch them towards the shores of your skin where they begin to
colonize take up roots in your eyes weigh anchor in the harbor of your thighs until all the hairs on your body begin to rise like a million flags brought to mast. At long last I know I no longer have to roam and I finally understand those sailors who plant there lips to the ground. And I wish I could do the same to your body because I’m sure it tastes like home. And I’m homesick. So I’m trying to get back and I’ve been racing down the highway towards you trying to find your pulse.
By all means, coffees all well and good but I’d rather have your lips kiss me awake every morning.
