i’ve counted the amount of kisses it takes to get from the center of his mouth to the tip of his dick. i could do it in the dark, find my way over like a lost and starving baby. and that is just what i do. i creep my way across his chest, and run my tongue across my prize. it’s past two and he is asleep and he mumbles something about work in the early morning. i am hungry and i do not care. and seconds later, neither does he. 

i’ve been too quiet

it’s making you mad and i know it and i’m too much of a bitch right now do anything about it. sometimes i’m evil — and i treat you like prey. i watch you from across the room and you bump into everything on your way over to the bed. you say something about how nervous you get when i look at you that way — something about how i am too silent, too focus on you and how you never know what i am thinking. and i say nothing. but i push myself on to your lap and cross my legs across your back. and then we kiss. you know those kisses that leave you bruised? the ones where you forget to breath and your nails are burying into second layers of flesh and you can’t remember a fucking thing about the seconds before the one that just passed? we kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss like i want to eat you alive and i say nothing. 

we are all going to fall in love more than thousands of times in this lifetime. we are all capable of it. the first boy i loved did not know my name. but i loved him simple - in the same way i used to love mangoes and sugarcanes on my tongue. there was nothing rough about this — i did not force my love into his hands and he did not take it away from me, but he laid down continents inside my hands —  and they burned against the lines of my palms. there were galaxies forming in between the gaps of all my fingers — stars pouring out like coffee beans from my grandmother’s woven baskets. there is potential there, balled up inside my fists and i want to shake it to the skies or maybe shake open a few hearts with it. this is how i remember love — as dirt and oceans and mud laid out inside my palms. and it grows— and then it stops and grows and stops and goes like everything else in the same way that water flows. 

because i’ve swallowed you whole — because i’ve brushed my tongue across each one of your teeth — because i know the taste of your skin like i know the colors behind each of my eyelids. because i’ve studied you like i made you from my own belly — because i can only allow myself to get so close to a man before i need him to be inside me. before i need him to become me — before i need him on top of me at all hours of the day .. whenever possible. because i dream about pulling in on your bottom lip … because i know your strokes better than the rhythm of my own heart beat .. 

we always blame the heart for things gone wrong— as if trusting logic with all you have would have stopped a few cuts from bleeding on to your tongue. because the heart is never in agreement — always raging, always reeling , always wanting. starving and incompetent and maddened. i think my heart is a lot like dirt. i don’t think it’s some fragment of any rose that you must press against the insides of your mouth softly and try not to chew on. i think my heart loves by burying itself underneath the soles of feet and hiding underneath fingernails and falling asleep on the insides of clenched fist. i think my heart is a wild thing —- and of all the things i am not proud of, of all the things i am quick to lie about in desperate attempt to convince you that i am polish — this one, i will never hide from you. my heart is dirt. i will tell you in whispers in dark rooms while we both play somber and hold on to each other’s fingernails like the world itself is tipping over. my heart is dirt. i will tell you in moans with legs locked in sin and skin swallowing each other from the inside out. i refuse to love like our pavements aren’t filled with cracks and our bones are not filled with ghosts and our tongues holding on to sweet lies spoon fed by old lovers. i fall in love stupidly —- tripping over my own tongue, slapping words on to your chest and immediately trying to steal them back in your sleep. i fall in love savagely —- studying your flaws and licking your wounds. i fall in love without excuses and i break and i split and i die in it and grow from fresh cuts.