Blessings

Don't miss me.
I'm already nestled
into the stardust
hiding behind shadows.

Literacy

I can't separate myself
from you in writing
or in mind.
I smudge black ink
into calligraphic,
unrecognizable marks
on your skin—
dragon tattoos in red
and silver ballpoint pen.
Give me lessons
to write between
X and O, context.
Give yourself some
reasoning between
here and the next
pull-off gas station—
I fall asleep
with my shirt sliding
off my shoulders,
wrinkled into those
marks on your hands.
Gentle and failing
to smell like anyone else.
It's all hypothetical,
but your searching eyes
give me belief
that they are us,
and the children
I name when
I write lullabies,
the same.
But I can live
with hypothetical—
Late passing headlights.
Flares in the dusty
rolled windows.
The clear-stained
"life is too short"
rests lightly in our
palms.

Shoot

Drop your breath
and we'll watch it
pour into pearls
of glass. I can't
fall past your hands,
your shoulders,
your eyes in half-
lighted doorways.
Don't slip into
themes, like I do.

Yawning

Plunge into those gaping
warm afternoons.
Wade in the thrust
of your hips; evenings
balanced on later selves.

Aliyah

Just take me somewhere new
where the fires burn more
black than blue
and stars are fallen
onto your freckled arms.
Just keep me under
the night
and hold your breath
in our cupped hands.
Just stay with me
where the hills meet
our smiles
and where I stop wondering
where we lost it all.

Palms against calluses.
The weight of drowning
behind a touch.