Echoed

If screams

And keels over into fetal positions curled tight

If wincing lemon faces ripped from lion faces

And listings of higher powers

"Jesus Christ God Oh My God!"

Can somehow result in the birth of something infantile

And totally new

But not always human

Then the babe would be lovers

Across time

The cries let out from the greatest lovers

Most powerful in their passions

Most passionate in their powers

Sow seeds of lovers' moans

To be harvested when, again, in time

The same caliber of romantic thigh twitching

And eye-rolling is created and echoed

Let the kings and queens of the past know

That a cornucopia and bountiful feast

Is taking place in our bedroom

On our sheets

While our movements knock

Shakespeare's sonnets and Dickinson's letters

From your nightstand

Know Better

Something inside of me

Knows better than to

Second guess the tingles that creep

Up the back of my arms

When you answer the phone

With a hello

Spoken through a smile

Secrets, Secrets

Never, ever, ever tell me

That you feel the same

Please, despite your gestures

And soft poet kisses

And arms capable of wrapping the entire military industrial complex

Up into a bear hug

Despite your tongue reaching for swirls of cozy sweatpants days

Hidden somewhere in our familiar kisses

Do not tell me how you feel

Do not let me know

I am forever in awe of making sure

You know exactly how I feel

And creating masterpieces in the honor of the off

slight, shot in the dark long shot chance

That you might feel even half as safe

And correct as I feel when I am wrapped up in you.

I need the mystery.

I want to be forever in the dark

Where we can mold our bodies together

While I forever ask you

Read it again

Read it again

Read it again

Blasted

They shot a missile into the moon today

One rocket penetrated the moon at 7:30 our time

The second waited, starring for four minutes until it collided

Reawakening and recreating all the dust and chaos

Of just four minutes earlier

I look at my list of tasks piling up like warheads

And make a list of what all reminds me of you

A paper about a poet you introduced me to

Researching our fate had we been born different times

Would you words still as sweet rest on my shoulders?

And responding to a nation

Awake at 7:30 our time

Watching with telescopes a tiny offensive penetration

Of a virgin chunk of rock

As though they didn't know

Or didn't care

That the moon created us

That the moon is our bedroom chandiler

As gentle and precious as a time zone

Or a national border

Or a distance between earth and the moon

Myself and your chest

Myself and my pillow

For sleeping under the moon.

Stretching

I miss the colors of your bedsheets wrinkled in the bends of you

Whenever I lounge around on pajama bottom days

I miss the way your torso hands the conversation

Over to your thighs

Whenever I walk miles with heavy backpacks

In directions that are not toward you

I hear you brushing your teeth in my dreams

But I wake to find myself much further from your bathroom

Than across the hall

Still I throw the backpack to the ground

And stretch my legs

Brush my teeth

And slip into bed

Knowing that every once in a while

I will slip perfectly into your complimentary

Curves and bends

Agreeing with your body

And soak up moments to miss

2:25 am

I cannot write a poem high

I said

I’ve never been able to

But I lied for the sake of argument

Which is something I try not to do

And I know I shouldn’t

But I do

And you should know this.

I know my truths are safe here though

You said you don’t trust

Art born of intoxication

My mind is recovering

And stopping slowly

The many years I’ve passed

Worth of intoxications

Brain dead highs and lows so bitter

I freeze cheeks just to think

Searching for highs in wrong things

Not even drugs

Binge eating weekends and lies to my parents

Skipped agendas and responsibilities hidden away from

Like ass-up ostrich immaturity

And I worry myself asleep

Most off-days

Wondering if my time has come to go or go ahead

Slip on a K-Mart vest and gain a special blue glow

Or sell it, pawn it, hitch it, suck it, and sue it all the way to the

Big leagues

Recently I started searching for answers in a chair

Without sugar or video games for a week

Just to see if I could stop crying

And throwing fits

And maybe start cleaning up my pencil box

And sharing with the other kids

But there was always a difference between hearing my father say ‘throw you into the deep end’

And him actually throwing me

Wait for me to decide

Before your decision

And your chances of a contact high

Soar to Petty concert comparisons

Luna

As I stand tired at my sink

Washing the night sky

The twinkles of fork prongs

And curves of little dippers

Extend themselves as for me to get a handle

On the night sky

But as I approach the moon plate dish

I realize I cannot

I wax and wain and circle the

Full bright orb

Getting nowhere with the stains

The stars and fork prongs

See that I'm distracted

The rush of nighttime post-shower

Pre-sleep soft skin sheet kiss

Leaves a stare and a freeze

I am breathless

Powerless to the night sky

The dippers float back to heaven

The stars ride soap bubbles away

And the dish

Runs away

With the moon