sspeak

mother-bringing hips sway across the earthy floor:     what makes you a boy     in the first place? you dance so well that she rises from the dirt and the question is never asked again.

three-hundred clouds: i count them across your spine. (wondering, naturally, when exactly it was that you became the sky).

purple spine: i waver while the AC spits heat back into my eyes. it is now 11PM: the car wheezes and i itch to take us both into the fray. the dark admits sheepishly in his slouched, unforgiving form that i am indeed the only late night shift(er) he can't help but touch all over. he holds me close through the drive, promising not to let me go and his chapped lips release a choked whisper at the base of my throat that shakes the whole damn road. mother mother earth rejects us helplessly while we stumble further into his own shadow. (so... i grab onto his coat lapels and silence him with consent that draws us into a sad, despera