Sweet

Prologue: Banana Bread Beginning

You and I: a tentative beginning
in a sweet-smelling coffee shop selling
thick slices of banana bread, nutty and sweet
like the smell of coffee
being made in the morning;
morning droplets of rain, pitter patter-ing
gently tempting me back to sleep;
sleep so soft and easy
to slip into, especially
when I’m sleeping curled around
you: such simple
happiness I thought I could keep

Brave 

 

even mountains must feel small sometimes

when they peer up

at the stars: entire worlds 

suspended on silver threads

above their heads.

i wonder if they are afraid 

of being crushed

that's how i feel when i look at you

you are an entire world 

dangled before my lonely hands—

a heavy question

hanging over my head

i want to ask the mountains to teach me
how to be brave

Kiss

A meeting

of two different kinds of softness

One, razor sharp

wit cushioned by rolling laughter

like ocean water weaving in and out

the frayed edges of sleep

to the melody of wordless music,

artistic appreciation for authenticity

solitary search for beauty

Two, rose petals

in the process of blooming, still dewy

with leftover fatigue from growing pains,

timorous curves whetted

on masculine desire, rainwater slick

with passion that mastered the art

of pretending to be small

Recipe: Pecan Sticky Bun 

I am your pecan sticky bun

when you crave something sweet
sweet release between your thighs,

let me feed you

honey from between mine—     lick
a path up my breasts, their rosebud tips ripe,

beckoning for a bite

Let me nourish you
with my body of milk and honey.

Uncertainty can be so sweet
when you make my hands sticky
with sweat when you spoon me
beneath tangled sheets, our limbs tangled

together, our breaths mixing

like my feelings.

Instead of a hit and run,
you coaxed out softness

I didn't think I could give.

Buttery sunlight drips

through closed blinds
as our bodies lie cooling

and I remember how it felt

to trail behind my heart as it fell
for whoever the hell it wanted.           

Your arms tighten

gently around me,

and I tentatively think
maybe  I've finally caught up.

Dedicated to Sweetness

 

Honey-coloured sunlight trickles

through blinds hap-hazardly
closed by your impatient hands

I taste your kisses, sweetened

by honey between my legs

Quiet blankets

this haven we made

from each other’s bodies
and cushions the inside

of my head, too

I hope I will never miss this

time during which my skin is not armour
easily broken by pain, but a map
for your traveling hands

and my insides feel as soft as your

skin, a landing pad for my lips

Your heartbeat sleeps underneath my cheek
I wonder if I am in a memory 

 Race You

we’re both hungry, so

ready

set

go: race to finish

first, the wet makes it hard

to go down-

hill too fast

you

don’t stop

i’m gonna come

Powdered Sugar Sex

Your ski slope shoulders are the meanest love story ever told

I often think that powdered sugar looks like snow

On a count of three: ready, set, go

My breasts peak underneath

your fingers, they skate

indolent circles over my stomach

and I arch in invitation for you to take

the easiest route down, but no

Your ski slope shoulders tense

in calculated anticipation

and I brace my knees because I know

I’m too weak to beat you in this race

to finish

Beautiful

“You are

lush words strung together like a necklace

of bellflowers, a cartoon thought bubble crammed full,

raspberry lips that laugh readily, and beautiful skin

gilded over moon-tanned secrets. Please

tell me about the skeletons you hide

behind that long curtain of hair

I want to know what makes you happy

when you try to outrun your pain.”

Flame On My Chest

You are my reddest blue

Autumn trees that look like ripe mangos

The sleepy sun air-kissing

the blushing dawn good morning

Every bodily insecurity I learned to love

Peachy summer

nights spent shimmying up

a rope of stars, Orion’s belt

the only constellation I can identify

My favourite bedtime story

molded into a muscular body

You are a flame on my chest

Redefinition

Before you, “home” was

a dictionary definition

1.     The place where one lives permanently,

especially as a member of a family or household

You showed me home

is the primitive intimacy of wearing your sweater

and the way my thoughts settle like lake water

when you are near

You are my 6’3 home

furnished with saucy jokes

and pillowy lips that kiss

my laughter away