Sincqueerily Yours,

I told her to allow her god to be Her god no matter what or who or if that entity is I thought my god was me in powder form; a rough cold draft served fast; I've always run from religion And She said you glow red; I blushed And She said: You made me want to be a better human while human is what I am for But that's for Me and for Her to be whole Maybe we have been demi-denied access; caution tape surrounds this chaos while we sleep. My cat is a trophy tropic thunderstorm -loving little lion man And I say, sometimes this is enough I am complete He loves me No matter The color of Her eyes Her eyes are ocean sunrise; we haven't slept all night I sigh when we look for god we look to the sky I'm a full moon now, pulling tide, pulling Her closer

Headshot day.

Poet in natural habitat.

Can you show me your art? Because I love art. When it’s not mine. Yours is so pretty, It looks like us When we intertwine while nude and we make ourselves into Renaissance pieces; You with your painted eyes, I with chalk-lined corners of my smile. Show me your art, Because I have graphite on my hands That gives you too much shadow. You are an artist, baby. You are my favorite artist.