She sits on twenty third street with the cats and the mice,

her eyes darting wildly, her hair crawling with lice.

She sits on twenty third street, in her clothes so old and worn,

her name she can't remember, or the year she was born.

She sits on twenty third street swapping tales for loaves of bread,

speaking of horror and of fear, of love and of dread.

She sits on twenty third street watching and waiting,

oblivious to everyone's pitiless hating.

She sits on twenty third street on her little folding chair

sinking deeper and deeper into her despair.

She sits on twenty third street with her cackling mad laughter

waiting for her prince, for her happily ever after.

I would love nothing other than to trace my fingers across the veins in your god-sent arms

And Hephaestus himself told me that liquid ambrosia flows right through you

Your scent is enough to melt the clothes right off me- not that I disprove of it happening with you

And I would be your personal servant just to feel your hands on my skin

My words cannot even flow smoothly, for the image of you in your glasses is flooding my brain

Aphrodite would attest that you were born to be worshipped,

And Eros would be envious of the pleasure I would be able to give you

I know you're with her, but sometimes I catch you staring and I want you to know

That if you ever break up,

I'll be waiting here (most definitely on my knees)

I want to touch the rich earth of you

dimpling a lasting impression.

I yearn to caress you in uncharted waters

as lonely shore floods with joy of you,

staining my heart blood red in the rapture

of fingernail moon as night enfolds

wrapping us in cool embrace.

Saltiness of your wind enhances

vibrant colors of life as my lungs

fill with your soft breath

and whispers drip from my soul.

Your fragile butterfly wings

tangle with suspended tear drops.

Lost in your musky scent, two hearts

blanched by unwavering sun,

filling our glass sensually,

tucking you under my pillow

only to find you there

the next morning.

i.

I remember the night

After we told my parents

That we were together

We stayed the night

In your little bed

Because your parents were out of town

It was the closest I'd ever been

To another boy

And you held me in your arms

That entire night

Because you knew I was seven thoughts away from falling apart

I cried because my parents didn't want me

But you smiled and wiped my tears

Held me closer and said

That I was the only one that needed myself

And although my world was falling apart with every shooting star

You did your best to keep my pieces together

Even if you were fighting your own black holes

You were my secret garden

That I climbed down the trellis of

Away from every accusatory glare and disapproving stare

And my fountain of youth

ii.

Months went by

And I was supposed to learn how to fly on my own

But the only thing I learned was how to lean on you harder

iii.

Soon came a night

Where I couldn't take it any longer

I was going to end

Every shooting star

Every aurora borealis

Every solar flare and asteroid belt of my solar system

I relished the feeling of having the fate of the world in my hands

But I couldn't implode

Without telling you goodbye

I called you up

At 4am

And we snuck out to the field behind the church

Where we had bled our sins so many times

And had dared god to defy the stains

I pulled out the condoms I had bought in the gas station bathroom

For a buck fifty

And you clenched your fist around mine

Knowing the final pieces of me were slipping through your grip

And getting sucked into the vortex known as life

And there, under the open sky

Where I knew both god and lucifer could see us

You sodomized me

In full view of the cross and the lamb

iv.

You still find fragments

Of me between pages of

Your favorite book

And still hear the lyrics

Of my favorite song

In the wind