Some Love

For a time, I embraced the
nameless frequencies.

(The sounds & vibrations created
between our tongues & teeth by
flesh within flesh & nights
barely dreaming so often falling
awake to resonance of thoughts)

For a moment, I saw myself as
brave: to be so casually vulnerable,
I put away the barriers –

& so noise rushed in, provided entry,
reverberating in the hollow spaces.

After time, I asked but more often
begged: rearrange these sounds,
create a language we can share.

When I named our frequency, it was
with knowing your response:
For me, it was only meant as fun.

Some love can live only left undefined.
Given words, it loses shape –

& I call it love changes to
another sound for pain.

Salt

You are ocean water in my hands –
slipping through my fingers, always
leaving some part of you behind:
salt, the smell of brine.

Moonlight

we took shots beneath the moonlight.
all quiet breathing, hushed voices
tugging on the stems of candles
and spreading wax – hot, melted –
across the tips of our fingers
until it was thin and hard.

he said i like the pain;
i said i like the expression
on your face – all strained.
he said you’re always stoic;
tell me, how does it feel?
and i said i feel nothing.

– unless you count apathy;
no, to be honest, it’s shame.
i can never get it smooth
and it always cracks.

The Girl, A Fish

i dreamed his smile, lips curled –
teeth edged like the coastline,
the rotted driftwood stain.

i know now what the beast looks for.
we broken girls, with homes that
gut us like fish.