…I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a storm.
I would kiss you knowing it would kill me
because I’d rather be left for dead than left to wonder
what thunder sounds like.
I’m not looking for someone to save me.
Life rafts might keep you afloat but they rarely get you anywhere
and I’ve got places to go
so break me in two.
Tear back my rib cage and cover every page of my heart
with love poems you will burn some day.
The most fertile lands were built by the hands of volcanoes
and I wanna know what grows beneath the drone of Hallmark and roses,
want your goodbye to feel like explosives,
yours lips a burning building without fire escapes,
your hips the gates of
Hell if I know if heaven exists, but this will do just fine.
I wanna feel you
like lifelines on the palms of christ when the nails went through.
Is that
really, really creepy?
Just in case it is, let me also say I wanna make you sandwiches
and soup
and peanut butter cookies
(Well, the truth about peanut butter is that peanuts are actually really bad for you
‘cause they grow in old cotton fields that clean the toxins out of the soil
but hey, you like peanut butter and I like you!)
Let me also say I want you sleepy-eyed in the morning
like that warm summer sky born from so much softness the horizon cries every time nightfall
comes to take you away.
Let me also say I’ve never seen anything more gorgeous than you were that night,
and we laid side by side and I told time by the moonlight bending through the window
and casting shadows on your face and you told me this story…
—-Andrea Gibson
