Describe it to me

I cannot claim his love

I imagine that it tastes

like bleak mornings that blink crust from
tear ducts

like puffs of putrid breath as I breathe him in
without regret

The Trouble with Love Poems

Ballads, brewing
brimming with
Prolific declarations and vows,
Teeter over.

Eternal is
Sopped up by dirt.

Over Dramatic Ballad

My cruel one who has locked my heart away
Out of mind and sight but it hurts all the same.
You belong to her; how I wish you were mine.
It would hurt far less, but you're viciously kind.

My love you haunt me in my wishful dreams
Pining for your touch that bursts my heart's seams

I'm content, are I not, to step aside?
Role of home-wrecker, that, I cannot abide.
I leave my longing to flitter in my head;
Safe in imaginings, never struck dead.

Beckon me no longer do not tempt me to stray.
I cannot love a dream, yearning for hopeless change.

My cruel one who has locked my heart away
Out of mind and sight but it hurts all the same.
You belong to her, how I wish you were mine
It would hurt far less, but you're viciously kind.

Reflecting

Sometimes I worry:
That our eyes
Will only shine
Brighter than stars
When our phone screen
lights up

Unwritten Thoughts

Do you remember last night?

Do you remember the night of last

of last hugs 

and kisses 

and eye contact held far too long

Do you remember last night?

Do you remember the night of firsts 

of first denials 

and hopes 

and idealistic wishes 

Do you remember me last night? 

as I saw

your hand 

brush her calf 

graze her shoulder 

touch her waist 

I saw last night 

and I remember

Ramblings of a Run-on Sentence

At times

--

Do you just give up? 

Rumbling, bouncing, destructive thoughts of: 

Ijustcan'tmakeitIdon'tunderstandthepointofitallIfeelstupidandunabletocatchupandandand,

smushed together in your head like

grandma's famous mashed potatoes,

-- 

frail hands quivering as they hold the masher,

we wrinkle our noses at the bowl wondering, before scolds chide us, 

did she wash her hands after pulling up a sanitary pad that caught menstruation of old age;

she spared the time and labor and creaks of spent bones to make

grandma's famous mashed potatoes,

--

So you go back to Calculus. 

Hug me ole' wandering charmer

Oh my darlin' where'd you go?
Haunting hallways evermore
dreaming of better days soaked in summer rain.
Behind you swarm ghosts of girls
day dreams of you weaved into curls;
and I'll watch doe eyed ever pining for you.

How can you be so kindly cruel?
You must think us fools,
falling for charm.
One by one you strike us down--
our longing hearts could fill this town;
we'll wait for embracing arms.

O' Octavian

I want the vengeance
of Cleopatra-- her

sultry Egyptian walk
sweet-- dripping like ambrosia

clinging to the crevices of
her bosom-- tracing

allusions of her perfection

drawing men-- with cold consciouses
boys-- with fervent loins

to row frantically through
seas-- that spit storms and bring forth tears

just to suck the salty sweat--
beads beckoning from her pouting lips

only to find that serpents

slithered in and stole man's place--
coiled in the warmth of her breast

striking up the venom of envy
far fiercer than what her body--

mortal and fragile
quivering with blood--

promised to their hollow hearts.