How love can consume our verses and vice versa
I go from one obsession to another
From one past to the other as if it could save me.
My arms hurt from begging to deaf walls to hear me
Pushing it all back into life, fitting meat into skin
Breathing into the lungs of history.
I attach myself to things that feel safe,
Doesn’t matter how deep they cut,
They are unchangeable and, therefore, they must remain
By my side after it all fades.
I paint their eyes, from green to gray,
In such vivid tones they have no other choice than stay
And look at me from the other side of the bed.
One caresses my head as the other caresses my skin
And I’m protected from the omnipresent reality.
I can dive undercovers when they arise from fate.
They have such beautiful names I fill the air with.
Every shade of auburn hair amuses me
As a reminder they’re around as a never-setting day
And I ricochet from here to there easily,
Pages turning back and forth from the same old book.
This is how I’ve learnt to make love.
Through words and pages and the lustful way
One reads each sentence to digest a full poem.
The way one must wet your lips to make it sound properly.
The same way we’ve been reading each other,