most days

I spend a lot of time looking at
the ground, look
for spots I could curl into.
The warm grass at parks, the sides of
a road, a field I could disappear into.
(The corners of your arms.)
Why is gravity always so heavy?
Loving me straight into
the ground. I can’t stop
looking at the ground.
I dont even know if I was here today,
I almost hit a car today. 
I’m clawing myself out,
I just don’t know from what or where.
I think about hiding a lot, 
more then I want to admit. 
The lights are always too bright,
what I mean is sometimes I don’t want 
to exist. Everything feels like a crawl,
feels like bruised knees. 
Then there’s you, the warmest thing
I want to sink into.
I hope to god you can swim. 

changing states 

Playing with the physics of our 
bodies in your bedroom.
We use key instruments of self,
adding friction, adjusting pressure and 
temperature in search of
 “just right”
                       there. 
Perfect conditions. Tightly wound 
body made soft by your hands. 
When you feel the vibrations
keep going. Changing states
of matter on your sheets.
Pressure turned higher, heated to the 
boiling point. Melting.
Bodies favor the existence of desires.
Reach the center, 
baby right now we are stars 
and you’re in the core of me. 
Can you feel my heat? 
The sun has nothing on me.
Tell me I make you burn.