My queer.

It is the sound that rolls down my back to which your mouth turns into a love box,

It's the tone of your speech when all bets are off, along with the light bulbs from the nights.

It is,
It was,
It's loving the motion to which my feet take me to work each day.

The same feet my mother nursed with her tired hands at dark....

The breathe,
The speed,
The taste of thirst after a full glass of champagne with our shirts off,
Are the memories that I inhale and exhale when,
My,
My,
My identity is the gold in the room.

Let's take another car drive,
Tires half filled with air,
A dresser with only a square of space,
Socks in the back,
Cigarette buts burning the car seats,
Burning through my skull every mile we go.

So it's not what I think it is, as the noise from the restroom is an echo I haven't heard before and the water glitters as it pours...

Shhhhhh*****

I am sweating all my love out!

Dancing until my feet fall off because of the slippery fucking road you left me alone to navigate. I want to fall without your pillow case.....

There are eyes staring at me,
They are not yours but a stranger's,
They are not yours for they are the same ones hanging on my ceiling right before I fall asleep.

There is someone 20 feet away with arms I wish I had,
Not for the muscle but for the name,
The same name I scrape an inch closer to my bones each day.

My mouth keeps eating but my stomach wants no more,
My mouth tells you I need you,
But my body can't take it anymore...

My Mondays arent the start of the week but the definition of where our smiles have met. I no longer can taste the alcohol in my lips but I can in yours and the more I think about it the more I can't sleep without you laying next to me...