catgirrl246

one petal of a white magnolia rebels and comes loose from its flower, drifts down slowly to kiss the water, sails down the stream without a care.     "hold my hand      as we stroll along,      will you?"

Cool spring nights in your eyes The soul of the riverbed weeping past our feet A willow tree watching patiently, wisely over us The warm flicker of the fireflies dancing in the taller grasses Humid air enveloping our bodies Your cool smile, like the breath of dandelions between our toes I remember your hands in my hair, the bend of your arm around me like a gate Reach upwards Touch the stars, cradle the moon This is where my dreams are This is where I feel your heart

"Hey," shy, awkward smiles mask secrets embedded in impossibly shattered eyes. shy, awkward hands tenderly cradle slim, scarred shoulders through a tshirt fragrant with soap. shy, awkward hearts tremble with a rush of pungent memories. if you delved more deeply, you'd find two shivering newborn children over stimulated, overwhelmed; a mother ignoring her child; two pairs of clammy hands that fit like puzzle pieces in one another; four seasons of love; several figures sprawled in the dandelions saying goodbyes; a dress like the sea and dark hair like the night sky; a desperate phone call to save a life; years

Today, I drowned. I had been painting that delicate smile you used to show to the world, wildflowers bleeding into oceans into sunset skies. My breath caught in my throat and I wondered where you were. I wondered what you were dreaming about. me? (what do you think of me? what do I think of me? no, I wouldn't dream of me, either.) I'm kind of selfish. I know there's no such thing as perfect. But I also know that you are the closest thing in the world, and if I had a chance again, you'd still be here. I heard your voice, and I leaned into it. I turned around, and you were there The oceans lull to our rhythm and trees sway in the breeze. Today,

skin peeling back, revealing taught violin strings tootight,tootight. bruised, bruised skin, like finger-smeared butterfly wings, accordion lungs constricted and soul an empty riverbed. /sometimes, I used to think you were delirious/ everytime you move, your feet padding on the floor (ticking, disaster. I await the moment you explode) fingers resting on the piano (hair laying down your back, smooth, delicate, twisted, knotted) /but then I realized how I saw you/ I asked you a question, never registering in my mind sounding like silence, and you turned, looked at me bewildered (foul, hopeless, rotting) lying on the carpet,

kissing you is like speeding up, like running. are you scared? keep moving, don't want to get caught. people are cruel, you'll be dead in a second if you slow down. I grab your hand and pull you up over the gate. you stumble, but I keep you up. at the top, we jump. kissing you is like freefalling. I start to scream on the way down, and I know it is love when you scream louder. and even though I twist my ankle a little bit at the bottom, I laugh because my logic is still hanging in the air above us about to splatter down to the ground like thick raindrops. kissing you is like looking at life like we're gonna die tomorrow, like

I come up gasping for air, your breath is warm against my lips. The cicadas are singing outside our open window (I take pride in saying our) like your pretty little voice humming under your breath, like the way it feels to have your hand curled against the bare small of my back. You kiss me again, lingering and pulling away before you lay your head on my chest. My heart races for you. Your fingers move softly just below my ribs, down over my torso, up my spine, finally resting at my neck just below the hairs there. The candles on our bedside table are cheesy, but so you that I couldn't mind a bit. The clock ticks