nanana na nana

Skin remembers the way it feels
when cold and touch combine
when fireflies and dark night skies
bring memories to rewind.

I breathe the moon
and evermore, relax
under the weight
of counter-clauses
html, and countless figure eights.

leopard print and camouflauge
will dance under the stars
and we'll hold back when we get the call
from behind iron bars

masking nervous options
with a rocket pop or eight
and seventeen of us will crash
until the hours count too late

driving home was never smart
but we make it all the same
and in the morning
we'll pretend
we don't remember names

smoke and sand

I am done trying,
done surviving
on words alone
and colored prints
of late night stays
and weekend stints.

Within the sand
and smoke to rise
pulls and drags
will red our eyes.

I'm done trying
to piece it all together
and see if it withstands
this uneven july weather.

Cheating a little bit now,
and pulling at the seams
I write the things of magic
and the silhouettes of dreams.

Outlines with confusion
masked with better skill,
to hearts and cards
and spades and will
and drinking up your fill.

Masking with the words I weave,
and better with a tongue,
I sing a song of solitude
that has only just begun.