i don't want to be this woman-
this whore that is okay
with second best-
moments of your time-
positions without the release.
i enjoyed the nights-
but my mind deserves the day. the light
of our laughter has indeed reached me
but i wonder if that's how you'll return.
i wonder what cards you hold
when you tell me that you show them all.
i'm not stranger to the game
and you've sparked my interest-
i just wonder if you know how to end
and finish and continue playing all the same.

you entered me
and i can't imagine a world
without your smile.
we were allowed only a few moments
and the possibility of more-
if i was able to bend myself into those positions
and boxes.
time's passed and i wonder if i'll still have the energy
to fall for you. to replace parts of my flesh
with the longing of you.
healthy and unbalanced.
i cannot think of you without a smile-
even when the door's shutting behind me-
even when my purse is hidden
by the doorframe.
the absence is something
that i'm learning
and the lust is something i'm sure i could forget.

i feel the butterflies-
the edges of the world
as i push beyond my own edges.
and it's as exciting as it is nervous-
i'm making decisions
i'd normally talk myself out of.
and i'm taking life for granted
as if it will always be this free
and bendy.
not knowing that time causes us to be stiff
and as lusts passes away
the hardness remains
and creates us sour. uninterested.
i wonder when this stone is turned
if you'll think of me with fond memories
or if you'll continue to bend life
to the reality of us.
the excitement of our own blood
pursuing our hearts. pursuing the timing
that will most certainly never be right.
i wonder if the end will be enough of a push
for me to really take flight
and leave this self
that's too fond of pretenses
and a poker hand that lays on the table-
i wonder if this pushing will become
a habit
that isn't as hard to break
as your love.

your memory isn't devastating
but i'm guessing that's because you haven't left me yet-
haven't had the moment of no return
where my heart jumps from my throat
to the floor of your condo
and refuses to leave.
i've felt it-
begin the climb up my digestive system
but have been able to clamp down
bite my tongue
and cut into myself-
bring myself back to a bit of reality.
one where your past does lay plainly
in the line of sight of your future.
and you haven't begun painting yet-
i don't know if that merits stones
for my side of things.
but still, i'll return your call
when i don't have the chance to answer.
and find my lips in a smile
if they ever have a chance to capture.
and i know that i couldn't begin to offer
more than what's already been laid at your feet,
but i will promise to be me-
and will silently know that's more than you deserve
even when you open that door
and beg me to stay anyway.

mornings.
i remember the two
that i was so carefully permitted.
i remember the two
as the painting hangs in my mind-
red. gray. the rain drips over me.
and there's nothing to say, really
you don't owe me anything-
no explanation or tidal wave of emotion.
i'm not even sure there would be a tide
to rush and meet you.
but still, i'd like to think i could offer the option.
nights spent were passionate-
hazy. but safe.
and i met you in that cloud
you were under.
i begin to wonder, as sand moves on,
which rock you really thew
and what want you desire.
will you open yourself to that fear
or is this over before the game
even begins?

i can sit here and write-
reach you with words
that are two dimensional
and try to communicate what i need
but they will most certainly
fall on deaf eyes
because you're too caught-
too snagged by life
and your past luggage
that keeps moving with you.
i understand the need-
i understand the separation you keep-
that you're blessed to live entire months
but my weeks are held different.
my weeks without you
are painted gray
and i fight constantly
to maintain
my spirit and shoes.
there is danger in not knowing
your power
and i know you've only just begun
down this stony path
of indecision.

i begin to wonder
why it is that you escape me-
create me whole and broken
fallen on wings of inspiration and dream.
i want you.
there is no doubt in that-
even in distance and misery
i find myself silently
tossing pieces of myself ino the streams
of loneliness.
just wishing for a bread crumb in return.
and you know all the right ways
to react. to reach me.
to spread your words across my flesh
like dirty whores perfecting their craft.
my soul cries out for you
as if a junkie going through withdraw.

a breath.
and i try to sooth myself.
knowing full well that it'll never be enough-
i'll never get that fix again.
not when laughter is poor
and your history
is what saves the day.

space apart.
distance and repetition.
you'll think of me
and picture gray.
you'll think of me
and picture red.

the boxes you've put me in
aren't anything compared to the positions-

you'll smile when you picture me.
think that you're winning.
think that i'm pining away.

in the end you'll be wrong,
but right now i cannot pretend-
there is a loneliness that comes from loving you
and that'll be what saves me.
the gray that finally gets into my head.

the absence of your smile
doesn't affect me
as much as the memory.
the thought reaches out-
crawls into my brain
and camps out.

the sun turns and eventually
eats a way into my heart-
a cavity awaits you when you return.

i don't know the date-
don't know the memorized lines,
should i be practicing now?

you return in two weeks
and i'm not sure i've had anything to say,
there's darkness in the summer-
the cool beating of my organs,
and the laughter of grass.

come lay with me, it beckons.
and even though time apart
creates me able to believe i've resisted
i know the call of green
will reach within my patience
and turn me around as a fool.

fall for you. that step would be easy-
get caught up- i've already done.
to stay laying on the ground,
is not something i've rehearsed
nor am prepared to do.
so after this falling,
will i turn the heel of my come-fuk-me shoe?

you'd like me to say
that you're the one-
my thursday night. friday morning.
month long fling
that i'll wake up and love-
wake up and believe.

you paint me with this smile-
hair perfect-
posture tall.
you have yet to open your eyes-
you want me to want you
but you don't even want yourself-

how is that supposed to draw me in-
your allure is self-prophesized
and the time has yet to begin-
pour more honey over this bed
i'll lie. turn over. and walk out in the end.

i still wait here-
with images of what i think
i should want.
they always seem one-sided
and melodramatic.
pieces of hair
from a cut
that i can't seem to remember
never mind the photo that proves i was there.

logic dances beside me
and i know i should be forced to listen
but your words, though present, are hollow
and my interest lies elsewhere.

does that edge cut at you?
it wasn't intentional. something a bit sagittarius,
if i'm able to blame it on the stars.

it is not i who thinks
you are the one for me.
i wouldn't ever want to bear that cross
nor trudge up that hill
in a self-righteous misery.

yes, you lost your way when you loved me
but i never asked for your teeth
and blood-
nor did i demand any path of your veins
i can love myself either way
and don't have the need
to wash my hair
in the essence of someone else's hopes
even if you're already bathing me in you dreams-
i'm just not that sort of gurl