I wake up to the words of Ginsberg and Keats.  My arms around you.  My face snuggled into your hair.  You smell like my Philosophy shampoo and tobacco.  I breathe it in. Filing my lungs with the ecstasy of your scent. I want to taste you.  But the dawns approaching and you're tired and high.  I swipe the syringe from the bed and watch as the morning sun creeps in between the mishaped blinds. I love you I say and I blindly assume you're sleeping.  But I see you lips curl into a smile and you pull me closer. Until my face is buried in your naked back. Kissing your shoulders with dry and hopeful lips. 

Wrapped up inside you.  The intensity of flesh on flesh. I understand the clichés.  The heart flutters and the chills inside. I want to be closer. If I could pull you inside of my soul I would.  And keep you there.  Safe and warm inside of me. 

Protected from the world and your faults.  I would sing songs of praise to my belly where you sleep. And tell tales od your infinite beauty to those who cannot see. Spend my seconds kissing your flesh; every inch until you feel your worth. 

I will cradle you and shield you from the hate.  I will let you waste away in perfect perfection.  and I will love you until the scars fade away to nothing but you and me.

The blush of dawn intermingles with the radiance of the new day. It's flaming rays consume the sky, and declare that the sun has awoken.

__

The soldiers splashed out of the sea, eyes wild with fear. He stood firm in the sand, his own irises reflected determination as they met with those of the man he had once called brother. In his heart he heard a voice. A silent timber that engulfed him in warmth. He felt the smooth shaft of his staff in hand, and he could see the foreboding hue seeping from where he had placed it in the water. It reached out into the waves, stealing the presence of any other tint. Behind him his people stood on the shore, their expressions both of fear and astonishment. Before him were those who had drawn the blood of his people for the past four centuries. They were more than familiar with the pigment that stained their hands. 

Surely now, they will rightfully fear the power of God, and the retribution He would reign down upon them if Pharaoh did not set His people free.

(Inspired by Exodus 7:20)

I wish my words were a little more poignant and I wish I could string them together a little more elegantly. I wish I could make my transitions a little more seamless and I wish my vocabulary was a little bigger.

But I am stuck feeling a black wall rise up in my mind- reminding me of my limitations and that I have no further to grow.

i knew a boy

who was beyond the ocean

beyond the sea

salt

and commotion

i knew a boy who was bigger than me

his horizons were shallow

he told me be free

forget about me

i hear your voice in

the shell

of what we used to be

i pick up my phone

and i hear the ocean

i’m trying to get away

i don’t want to stay

anymore

i’m drowning in these waves

these waves so salty

they taste like tears

i didn’t cry a river

for him,

i cried the ocean