19

I'm my happiest when the sun is hanging low,
casting its heavy whisky light to every peace of ivory skin showing beneath my armor
Pressing angel kisses to the bridge of my nose and to my cheeks that are pushed up with a smile,
caressing my shoulders with a warm hand and
And the thing is, that the happiness doesn't bubble inside me, it swells and stays.

18

I'd like to kiss you
on the cheek,
on the insides of your wrists,
press my lips to your mouth full of toast.

17

Even my hands
look big and rough and ugly
compared to the ones they could hold.

16

I wish I could tell you that

every love poem I've ever written is about you.

15

Blood blooms only for a second before the wound turns to a scar
and the only memory I have of it
is the thudding pain beneath my
ivory skin

14

Around here you need to know when to drop:
Your hand, when no one is shaking it
Your gaze, when someone confronts it
The subject, when it gets too heavy

Everything, when it all feels too much

13

I love the way my mouth forms the color of your eyes,
and i wish you'd kiss the word off my lips
in the same soft way as
my tongue curls around
it