I miss you.

How easily breath escapes lungs

when holes adorn each side,

when the petals fall to kiss the grass

beside the painted faces and red lips

the daisies pink in the aftermath.

What if we were in different shoes?

I miss you, too.

This is more than an unearthing,

this is an expose, ripping rib cage

each bone until it is cracked,

until one's innards are raw and

thin against the air of a world

that would rather turn a blind eye.

We are in three shades,

depicting scenes from days

past:

There on the concrete,

and you ask if you may kiss me

and you show me the power

in permission.

There in your bed,

barely touching,

we hover over blankets

and we talk about love

and each other.

Here, before you leave,

our fingers parallel

you promise your return

we shall see.

To be held by nothing

but the air, this is the

whisk and whip of your

lips against mine,

and I only wish to

settle further into

this moment.

The voice that once called

resides in the passing wind,

on endless repeat.

#haiku #poetry

When did you know

the soft of pink

curve of life

lured, eyes

flit from sky, laugh

smile to thigh?

because to be gay

is to be happy.

This is for all the times when

it wasn't your fault,

when blankets were strung

like nooses, when hands that

were meant to hold

strangled,

this is for everything

that was out of your control,

but the way it was carried

broke more than your shoulders,

the chips continue to flit

into the window even as time

passes, the healing is hollow

and the whispers are louder

Everything will be

okay.