I can keep drawing

these two dimensional stick figures

in the sand

like some primitive man.

It’s 2 in the morning

and I’m mixed

with goodness that’s making

the dull ache of yesterday

seem all worth it.

The words are enough for me

I’m thankful

I can still draw these awful stick figures

in the sand

just before I get into this flight

my pretty kite

it’s always been in my hands.

Sweet and exploring

two things that mix seamlessly,

and I want to fold them both

down into your tired arms

with rich buttery lotion

that has sitting in the direct sunlight.

I can’t help myself,

thinking of you,

I’ve opened up enough inside to know

I’m happiest

when things are balanced.

Having a girl

just to have her

spreading love’s addiction

evenly out all over her skin

underneath a rain-soaked night

that most intimate of moments

where we’re both taking risks and chances.

There was never a guarantee

that we’d ever get anything in return.

I’m smarter now

because of the weight of yesterday

and my faulty,

fucked up memories.

The real reason

never needs to be acknowledged or repeated

I just want to wake up today

laying there in our favorite place

where we plan the day,

just figuring out

how we back get here

safely untouched

safely ready to love.

Today’s timetable

is a hurtful truth

where we dream

nothing ever happened

just as long as I’m high

with my girl.

I can live my life

in this dream

without any consequences

coming back to me.

I have open arm

ready to be embraced

by a true pretty girl

that insists on softly singing

in her own private moments

sitting there

deep in the mirror

it’s important I guess

to touch up and apply

the shadows of beauty.

She knows her natural looks

are stunning

all on her own.

Inching up behind her

trying to distract her brush strokes

she touches my hand

and smiles

with this stare

a deep squinting stare.

I wish I could take a picture

of this moment.

We stay locked on each other’s stare

reading the thoughts in our minds

she squeezes and says mouths the words,

truly thankful

I bend and kiss the one true mark

that makes her melt.

Love’s an impressionable child

with simple needs

basic true expressions

that reach out and intertwine

like the child-like stick figures

drawn out in the sand