gothiktenkasen

"Yellow nail polish is my thing!" She teases one evening. The lacquer is a mess on my cuticles and Frankly, doesn't look all that great I'm sure it would look much better Against her dusky skin "What are you wearing?" I ask her last week. "A black tank and a black skirt and a Mustard cardigan." She replies, seven thousand Four hundred and ninety-seven miles away (give or take) I imagine her sitting on the beach, creamed cocoa Legs tucked neatly beneath her and suddenly I want to kiss her knees But I'm too yellow bellied to Tell her.

I know you to be in love With memories I am well aware of your wall Filled with reminders of Past remembrances I know my jealousy is foolish But I want to be the only thing On that wall, the soul that takes Up all the beautiful wrinkles and Folds in your gray matter mind

We built a house of stone and mud And shared in secrets and brooding Sultry nights with crooning birds Sitting pretty in darkened trees They made a statue of us from Earth and clay and laden it With smoke and incense until We coughed and laughed and Had a righteous fit We had a sleigh of leaves and bones Pulled fast by great white dogs, their Shadows streaming beneath their Beating feet They played the wind and vines Pulled tight across the branches As we danced in meadows of sweet, Sweet grass, shaking with every Jilted glance At every dusk, a feast of fruits and Other hidden, supple treats laid Out before us so we may g

Star Wars jokes and Sonic Screwdrivers Amidst all our True Blood love of Southern Drawls and late night Flick-fests with drinks and Soft guitars and poetry Where theatrics run wild In bright blue tights and Leopard print boots Where dark walks home Have taken place, where Pauses under street lamps and Star gazing in parks with thin Blankets and tangled headphones Bitter laughs over tea and hour Long, mile strong talks have Reached our ears through the Interwebbing of every smile and Joke, of every fight or flight Response And though we've had our fights, Our slamming car doors and bruised Hearts littering our minds for

"You're crazy," You told me One spring when things were Simple. (It was you and me and cancer) "Crazy how?" I asked, keen On playing dumb so you'd Feel needed, a clean whistle Cog in our machine. "Crazy like that high note in The Magic Flute, like the Stones and Beethoven, like the SF symphony And Metallica. "Crazy like that Gaga video, like A midsummer Beatles kick, like Jazz, like opera, like Shakespeare's Sonnets. "Crazy like a Clapton riff or a Psychedelic trip with Jimi," And you were the bass Keeping me on my feet Making sure I stayed on beat.

To you: I give my heart. I dig my fingers deep into my chest To pry loose this bloody, beating organ That skipped a moment when I first saw your face. Along with my heart, there are Other parts of me I'd Like to give you. To begin, I pull out my eyes For you to use when you go blind. I apologize in advance for they Are a simple brown and not the same lovely Green as your jealousy invoking irises. Second, I, with great trepidation, do Bequeath my hands. Please, Care for them as they have Written words of love for only you. Next, I tear out my liver So you may drink and never Fear that your body Will let you down. My lungs,