#apricotmoons

weathered hands & papercuts, we’re back at this place again. where laughter generates nightmares and the moon hides behind my sense of disgust. you are a glowing white lantern in the haunted woods and as i try to come closer you slowly fade to black. i feel it, i know it’s real and true but from you there’s nothing. just fantasy, of an ever foggy night where the southern winds blow it away to reveal a spot of stars above the trees. they reach. they yearn. and i am a cypress, arms in the wind, begging you to see me and set things free.

maybe he could taste the desperation on my tongue, the cool way it oozed off like the way the lace slipped off my shoulder. i believed then i could swallow him whole, make him a home in my heart. but he had other plans. while we noiselessly rocked together in the dark i was dreaming of blue skies and bluer oceans with no bounds; and he was counting down the hours till we’d part. i need you like smoke hits my lungs: heavy at first, dripping. then fully embracing, enveloping. then so fleetly flying, disappearing. how i hate to watch you both fade naked into the wind.

and the marijuana tasted like the church on stuffy Sundays, mourners locked inside, striking confessions from their breasts with mighty tongues. a choir, a choir, a million decaying angels sing thee to thy rest. it’s all nonsense words, this fiddle-faddle when i just want to tell you what i mean but i can’t wrap my teeth around the right words to explain how eloquently exquisite you are, you are like a diamond, you are, you are. i’m bleeding words, baby, sittin’ here, just for you. how can i tell you the butterflies you give me turn me into a stone each time i look into your eyes and yours meet mine and those snaky tendrils reach down and grab in your skin in all the places i yearn to kiss? there’s a wall, a force, like the one they pray to, pagan god of love, strike me in the heart with thine arrow, free me of the frozen fear stone grip i so often find myself trapped in. let the smoke mix with the alcohol and let the tobacco numb my tongue so i may reach the smallest hand through the cracks to brush your arm, once. (all i dare.)