she lusts for my inner thoughts

she pulls me in

her supple breasts

bouncing as she crawls towards the headboard

she knows that as she leans forward

all i can gaze into

is the small cavity

of air that is trapped between her two breasts

each named after my deepest fears

she wants me to touch her

to remember how soft her skin feels when i trace it out

with my fingertip

but i know the moment i touch her

the hair on both our arms

will rise in unison

my heart will shiver

because her touch isn’t that of warmth

it’s of the cold epiphany

of recognizing

the sameness

the internal nature of her being

she wants pillow talk

under the starlight

she wants my soul in shreds

so she can reach through my lungs

and squeeze the air out of it

until i’m left panting

needing her help

but i know the night i spend with her

from midnight to sunrise

will mean a sleepless night

where i can’t even escape her in my dreams

i am her

and she is within me

she tries to tire me out so she can get a chance

to dance

over my half dead body

she wants the chance

to snatch the thoughts out of my mind

and feed them to my tongue

one letter at a time

she wants my soul to purge

but she is not the cure

she is the disease

or maybe i am,

am i her

or is she

me

a dream

i dreamt of this

strange man

–

he notices me

he wants me

–

i’m not confused;

there’s only ebbing desire in between our eyes

and it’s easy

 

 

 

 

desire

i want hands

on my body

grazing my

waist

i want whispers

of your breath

across my ear

lobe

i want bites

in my kisses

and spanks

in my caresses

i want more skin

across my skin

i want layers of us

stripped down

to the core

i want to ride

through this night

until i’ve run out of dark skies

i want to race the stars

and see their glisten’s reflection

speed across your eyes

sunsets and sunrises

whose color shifts across

my thighs

i want desire;

loins

lit

i want to grab the fire

let it burn

within

until the skin

crisps

brown

falling (i)

whenever i’m at the doorstep

there are winds pulling me back

telling me to stay put

letting me rest

and holding me back

from the harsh sunlight

so the one day i decided

to prance

in the garden

of eden

how did i not realize that

the winds were whispering truths in my ear

that they were guiding my feet to wisdom

why did i think i had impulses

any less strong

than eve’s

how did i let myself believe

that loving you

was anything

but a sin

that would haunt me for lifetimes to come;

i am not made for this world

my god told me

how sensitive

my skin was

to sunlight

and still i danced

until

my skin

would crisp

and fall

in the dark

making way for a

void

that i could not sustain

the host

as i read and as i write

it is like the ideas are passing through

me

from one place

to another

and i am only a medium

in which they flow

one

in which they refract

my mind is a form of transit

that exhausts

and stretches

their waves

damaging their natural

essence

so they can come here

onto paper–

you have to be

empty enough

to host this many

guests

everyday

somewhere across my skin

every morning i am strong and willful

but by the time the day comes

and i see the blurred features

of your face in the distance

something within my soul withers away

as i let my mind elope to this unforeseen end.

neither love nor lust

something melts within me

and i still cannot find the words to describe

the process by which i am slowly being radicalized

against the idea of you;

something so simple has become altogether confounding.

for the first time self awareness and analysis do not help me,

for the first time i am alone

in this feeling.

so alone that i can barely

write;

so alone

that i am afraid of losing this

before i can even understand it.

— what if the only way i know love is through confusion?

another untitled daydream

there’s an image inside my head;

i wake up somewhere calm and bright

and the edge of a pink petal is grazing the inside of my arm

treading across the green of my veins

there’s another image where i

am the one grazing it;

where my fingertips

are whispering to its vein.

something about edges is calm

until i am on the other side

seeing them as verges.

 

the biggest star

i’m getting withdrawal symptoms

after midnight,

my brain is searching through

the stars of

my mind,

where were you

when the sun rose,

and where were you

when it set,

i do not know of any love

that’s taken more of my time.

i’m in bed,

who the fuck thought it would be fine

to place a mirror beside

my bed,

today i lie on my side

and see how pathetic

i have grown on my

bed sheets,

they are filled with dead

skin cells

and tears from last night’s thoughts.

i fell asleep on the phone with you

on one end,

and my self diffused on the other,

so when i look at the mirror,

my eyes roam the emptiness

of my room;

invading every corner,

colonizing every idea

so that I could be just

one minute later

to approaching the idea

of you.

— leaving someone you’ve never been with

question of the day

should we not let our past define us; our present selves, or should we embrace the origins from which we became for to them we inevitably return regardless of changes?

On Reading Nietzsche

it is not that his writing

has seduced my doubts

it’s only the mere passing by

of an exquisite idea

drawn into my mind

because of the curves

and textures

of every metaphor

it is literature

that enlightens

but does so

so unobtrusively

that something about it seems

highly conspicuous

–  i am all, the camel, the lion, and the child, at once