completely at peace

at the tip of your black loafers,
i'm sitting the closest and
you're transporting me.

where i smell paper and
hold breath under a licked finger;
pages bend plastic taking flight.

it's half past dawn and
this room is a half circle and
you're translating,
not losing, me.

me, with palms curled
under a rumpled chin counting
down ascending stairs;
stomach sinking with the clock.

me, not ready to leave this nook,
my hunched back supporting fists and
narratives preserved.

i think you're my valentine,
my songbird with a gap,
a city i can't yet pronounce.

you're already there with spines
balanced on chalkboard lips and
to me, you can walk on telephone wires.

how we don't even know

can we agree how this sinks,
chipping at walls and poking
bruises
and bruises.

soft tissue,
band-aids peeling off.

dramatic,
also fresh
and isolated.

the sensation
of fish biting at toes
in shallow lakes.

startling,
we'll never leave the water.

When i think the curve is gone; when I wake up

what a beauty,
what makes your hair touchable
and sumptuous
as breasts.

what a question,
lovely and nagging.

if I stand on one foot,
like i'm wearing a ballet slipper,
do you want to prop me up?

will you make me a muse,
allow a mild voice
to whisper
about silhouettes;
can you listen to:
a.) how scared I am
to lose my ribcage
b.) nonsense even i
sometimes won't let stick?

"but will it stay between us?"

"But will it stay between us?"

In a plastic house she already knows it might not.

Can't trust, filled with huffy words,
unbridled and desperate for ears;
can't count on a satisfying look,
nothing to her standards this or any
evening.

At the counter a mother picks
at a prepared meal,
and she wains, swirls, practically bursts
"too brilliant for her own good."

Push away the plate because
she's filled
almost running over;
eyes too wide crouch
behind unruly bangs,
too much or not enough,
she can't decide.

what'll happen when the vision goes away

with my legs closed,
forcing an unrounded o,
i am graceful

when i aspire to uncurl
an arch of fragile bones,
cartilage placing insecurities
in glowing exit signs.

looking here, at this wave
candid and unchanging,
can expel lumps of fear,
lies about airplanes,
and even stories by now
you were sure would end.