Love Bombs
A letter to Romeo
I don’t want to be a star-crossed lover,
I want to be a catacorner kisser,
biting on your whispers washed in the neon of our local diner,
holding onto you instead of death,
speaking poetry,
without the metaphors.
Bibliophile
Strike my lips and watch me catch fire,
reduced to a stuttering love letter feverishly confessing
as your mouth sweeps my skin,
punctuating body with tongue and teeth,
dictionary deteriorating,
Bible verses misquoted,
as the fabric peels away from the spine,
unraveling at the seams
what I mean to say is -
Chapters of thought shut tight-
The only thing I can remember from all of those passages, paragraphs, pages is
“you.”
Afterthought
We are just two moths falling in love with their glossy concussions
because their lunacy reminds them of the moon.
Werewolf
If you were the Moon,
I would be a Luna-tic.
Inspiration
A kiss cures everything, except poetry.
Honey-sweet
Out of all flowers, I chose you,
your petals severed like tear-off tabs,
used to gain chain-link confidence,
not weaved-together love,
your stem wilted from the weight of loss,
turned away from my fellow drones that roved above you,
the silent one in the meadow pressed against the clovers for luck,
petals sun bleached from waiting to see if anyone would eclipse the light for you,
still rooted to your plot,
muttering thoughts I want to know too.
I bow down to you, Sweet Thing.
My Queen will understand why,
because I have words to say,
hold on, let me stop beating these cellophane wings for you to hear me.
Please,
let me look into those downy eyes so you know these are Words,
not words that were stolen,
these are consonants,
vowels,
crafted in the hexagonal cells of my marrow bleeding into my body one drop at a time. Look, look at me, Sweet Thing, I chose you, out of these flowers,
listen -
You are not a moment,
You are a lifetime,
You and I will be a constant,
there will be no constellations for our love,
we are just a bee and a flower,
nectar and protector,
bumbling fool and the one that made them so foolish,
but doesn’t it make it greater?
That no one will know this love, and so no one can replicate this love,
it is only ours and ours alone?
Don’t look at them,
they are not us,
they will shift and change like the seasons,
breathing in recited poetry, stale oxygen,
You and I,
We will be forever,
preserved honey.
*
Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone. <3