Love in Small Quantities

My love for you is a lot like my weekend to do list, it’s made up of a lot of little things but those little things usually have a much bigger affect on my days then you’d actually think. My love for you is fleeting, but present. It conjures up these raw and often metallic like sensations, festering quickly and gone just as fast. My love for you is icy and hot. It’s like a perfect fall day when you step in a puddle. I love you in the tiniest of quantities, like the way I love a raindrop on the tip of my eyelashes.

I love you like,

- A 1-ounce shot of tequila

That very first shot of the night that goes right to your head and burns the top of your throat for just one wonderful second, but ultimately leads to more 1 ounce shots and less burning..

I love you like,

- Two swipes of my purple lipstick, the kind that makes me feel like a mermaid and daring all the way up to the end of the night without ever having to reapply.. because starting the night off with a plum lip and going home with a lavender one smelling like bourbon is certainly a treat..

I love you like,

- the last cigarette of the night, the one that lights your tongue on fire and concludes an excellent concoction of mixed drinks and beer in the pit of your stomach..

I love you like,

- a hole in my stocking that is seemingly cute until the next time I wear them and I try to recollect why, just why did I let that happen..

I love you like,

- the tail end of my favourite song, and the trick the music does making you believe there is still two minutes left until it brings you up and knocks you down and 50 Cent comes on..

I love you like,

- avocados, because I never have a concrete answer for just how much I like everything about an avocado..

I love you like,

- change jingling in my pocket and the way the coolness feels against my fingers when I'm walking home and have this sudden urge to feel something..

I love you like when the street lights flicker on and then off again.

I love you like when someone has over paid the parking meter and I get to park for free.

I love you like when there is still enough ice cream in the carton for one more bowl.

I love you like returning my library books on time.

I love you like a fresh pot of coffee.

I love you like a brand new day.

I love you quickly and impulsively and spontaneously but absolutely wholly and entirely.

Lousy Lie of Tiredness

i was deeply impressed by the way it looked like you were swimming in a sea of butter yellow cloth when you awoke, stretching beside me. i closed my eyes lightly, so that my eyelashes would feather at the top of my cheeks, that you wouldn't see any sign of 'scrunch' because i had been watching you for hours. you nudged me and smiled, i opened my eyes with a lousy lie of tiredness but you didn't call my bluff and cooed about the day, half wasted, that you didn't mind and that we could stay in the sea of yellow, our own private oasis, for the whole day if i pleased. i wanted that. you and me, inside the coolness of my comforter. clinging to each other on our very own life raft as we traveled through a day together in our own little mission; bed bath and beyond.

Pep Talk / Personal Superbowl

there was something wonderfully wrong about the way things were going, everything was not as it seemed, things appeared cracked and closer then they actually were, like the mirrors on a beat up getaway car. there was a slow unravel of my surroundings and it hung loosely, casting a seductive veil like a promiscuous move of a slightly older out of shape women. this feeling was omnipresent. i'd be squeezing a tough avocado at the market and know it was there lingering, and when i spun a teaspoon in my black coffee-- as if i was adding that feeling to the liquid to consume and harbor inside of me. there was a beautiful out of sort-ness that was matter of fact in my routine and as much as i tried to ignore it, i felt as if it was oozing from my pores, a condensation, reveling my unexpected hot and coolness toward the sinking ship of my character. there was something perpetually blooming inside of me and as i involuntarily tried to slink out from under it i hadn't realized all along, all along that time of weirdness, i was there reigning right over it, on top of myself, hands full of my own shirt collar yelling into my own face like a crazed football couch about to win the Superbowl.

Lace Doused in Honey

she wore a stained red lip anytime she went out, it highlighted the lies she was about to tell. making up occupations and heart breaks that sounded like lace doused in honey. she was incredibly smokey and appeared like a black widow spider, all purring and warm so she could make love to you and then devour the contents of your brain, the contents she had created and placed there, leaving you with a scar that looked like chewed bubble gum left on the pavement on a hot summer day. her heels matched her fingernails, the claws of a lioness. she clicked them on surfaces, as if a siren's call, luring anyone into her grasp. she could be meek and humble and compassionate and kind, but once she shed her serpent's skin she was tough and mean and fierce and irrational. she adored pain, feeling and inflicting it. she was empty and full all at the same time, like a gun always being shot and loaded. she had no real plans or desires, no real motives or agendas.. she was deeply unsatisfied with herself and only found redemption in the demeaning of others. twisted and ragged, she was exactly what people found enticing and was a pretty little trap for anyone looking for solace in a black cloud.

 

Beach Boys in the Hood

beach boys in the hood looking for some waves to ride. hoodlums in the sky looking for their Lucy. mustard stains on yellow tops, nothing really changes. hook up the Nintendo do your state of mind. dance around the hour glass because who even use these things to tell time. homeless people in their homes waiting for new lives. people with their roofs looking for new sky. stepping in a puddle as the rain comes crashing down. driving to drive, sitting to sit down. getting up to go, but always coming back. ketchup stain on the toe of your red shoe.. and nothing really changes, while everything is brand new.