Star Dreaming

In the frames of my mind the forgotten shelves collect dust that only the moon can rouse. The stars trail honey dewed lips against flushed flesh, goodnight kisses laced with hungry insomnia. 

a poem for you; or who I wish you were -

Before bed

I wish you'd say 

goodnight.

Sweet Dreams.

Don't let

the bed bugs bite.

And as I sleep,

my dreams erase

the dull aches within me.

until the morning,

when I wake and

check my phone -

- expecting.

even thought it's 

been months with no

good morning. 

Ode to the Reader

You read my words first.

Perhaps out loud,

or maybe in your head.

I wonder what your voice sounds like.

I wonder how you’ll say each word.

Pronounce each syllable, 

hang on to me.

Maybe a part of you falls in love.

In love with the words,

in love with me.

Maybe a part of you never stops reading.

Perhaps you hate me.

These words are childish.

Poetry is blissful ignorance.

Love, death, the art of a blossoming tree.

I have always loved you, though.

I have waited for you to read me.

To spread your fingers across the page,

The warmth of you delights me.

I wont ever stop loving you,

In fact I wont ever leave.

I will be right here,

Stuck in the pages.

Stuck in the words,

the sentences,

the syllables that you slur so carefully.

I have loved you all along.

And even if you forget,

I will love you then too.

Because poetry is made to love,

And for you I always do.