Tagged: knowledge

we are always an

i don’t know how to

i don’t know how to
be a proper human, i make
little notes on how

to conduct myself, scratch out
wins, circle losses with a

bruised marker, i catch
myself staring at myself,
there’s no turning back

you have managed

you have managed
to build a luminous
fort with hand-picked
catchphrases. i am
still trying to string a
word or two across my
ukulele to strike
a suitable tension

i know without you

i know without you
having to say as much that
there is nothing here

for me – the timing of kisses
and the purposes they serve

i started the morning off

i started the morning off
with chocolate. no one
has to know unless i
somehow give it away,
warn you, for example,
that the irresistibly smooth,
buttery caramel center
was a lie, or that always
eat your chocolate
at room temperature,
especially truffles
does not cover all rooms
since you’ve went away.
at any rate, there is one
less person to count the
remaining pieces,
no one has to know

for every reason,

for every reason,
i want to be on top
with you –
you know it, and i
know it.
so when you
climbed on
top, there was
an immeasurable
or longing, and
in the morning, even
the walls looked bruised

because we knew just

because we knew just
enough about kissing, having
practiced being out

of practice, for comfort and
years, it came as a surprise