#muses2

Ryou

the dusky purple glow of dawn rising over the hills touching the valleys just so leaves me speechless & you beside me a beatbox high on an early breakfast of gummy bears and sour patch kids leave me breathless your eyes sparkle, glint, squint & your mouth spreads so wide open to the stretching sun it seems you help me to drink it up like orange juice that glows & sits deep in our throats & though you have me in the palm of your hand i shudder for i do not want this dawn to move forward i never want a past i don’t want to be enveloped by any day’s inevitable twilight with its haunts, screams, dreams & cooling of the sun

beat after beat we bop and jump and lean into each other my head wobbles and i dream of your embraces round it i trust you for you are magics personified, i think i love you i'm losing my sanity an inch at a time huddle huddle cuddle cuddle tell me it's not my fault and we can't do this anymore embrace me anyway and keep my shifting spine stacked together so long now that i'm dripping sweat and that's not cool doesn't matter to you all you want to do is hold me up show me how to be whole again and love my scars

in all points in time you were magical like some brand of talismanic power as long as you held me i couldn’t be hurt although, listen, my head protested in lunatic whispers of painful payments you might rip from me but you never added any heaviness to the gore streaked relic that was my dusty shine and for a while then the world was gone in a drift of grayness and wasteland theme parks i’d abandoned in the desert until you raised your hands and made me mumble a truth i couldn’t speak and under your magics we stargazed for a while

Because I asked, you took my trust with you, and before a closed door and a white block wall you reasoned and rhymed—your flat billed cap for after-school schooling bobbing among dust falling, then halfway back, across rows, you flung it wheeling with a fair aim and a laugh and it struck home. You insisted many subjects later, when excavating the past for signs we’d missed we’d end, I should’ve laughed, too. Listen, I should have. My ruinous memory even supports what I’ve seen since: the point’s shadow doesn’t shift; it’s more, still, an uninhabitable island, an unerasable error, than a peak, closer to math than honed lyrics—this tiny gray cloud I caught that never rains or drifts. How god-like of you to leave hope and comfort inside my fist and every shake and pat and private stroke this lifelong pencil of hurt.

updated muse list