in[cant]ations of a blue-collar lover

1. the sad part is,
we start out altered,
an awkward trip--




and you fell into my lap with too much to breathe in.

2. (your voice reminded me of nuclear war and so
it was like my favorite song.
i memorized each half-thought word
and played them to myself later
when my floor was silent and
she was under your
throat.)

3. but the third time it was a
camera and you saying i was your favorite color
and could you really memorize
each number connecting you to my brainwaves
without gaining spartan status.

when i said yesyes i
could almost see myself touching
gingerly your hair
      |
      |
      v
        and secretly, i fell in love with the idea

4. the funny part is
when i bring out my trump:
we never kissed
i was afraid in your arms,
scared of the dark and monsters under the bed
your words were just
cologne spat into my eyes--
good intentions and attractive doing damage
and when the cops came
i was hesitant to make our first kiss a goodbye kiss
so snap a shot of you in the back
watching with wounded eyes

as i chase you like an elipses or an afterthought.

5. every letter i wrote you was swak and i didn't learn until later that you kissed
my mouthsmears each time and didn't let go.

6. bruised lights on the ceiling of my mind, overplayed for weeks like a too-good song

7. if we had a place it'd be your school
because it was before we did anything--
before we crossed the berlin wall,
before we immortalized whatever 'us' was on the bedsheets,
before we began
reading each other poetry.

8. 3:23am is what you'd be
if you were written with hands
(those unattached to girls)
because it is an infinite time
in slow decline
and everything is smeared but beautiful.

9. so i've fallen for a boy who
needs a pair of dirty angel wings and
kidnaps my heart with cliches
that sound poetic
with all the wrong syllables.

10. and here is where obsession begins: loud music, kids screaming off-beat, the backseats of cars,
a condom out the window, and your hands tracing hearts over the base of my throat.

11. monkey bars, you swing across them
hands gripping, releasing
breaths of fog in spring air and
your jacket on my shoulders
makes me think i need you
while you tell me my friend has a great ass.

12. when i made you sweat i
refused to finish the deed
but oh,
how much determination it took

when your mouth chased my anatomy

13. it tasted like brass and the
heavy way you said
"of course not, i love YOU, not her"
and like me
really wishing i was inside one of your blunts
so i could be more a part of you
than she was
and be something
you really actually cared about
for once.

14. one off-color joke later and it's like
you never licked my tears off
or rescued the corona from my depressed hands very, very carefully
so i'd stay soft.

15. it was so eloquent.
a fuckyou and just another girl
drowning in the bathtub
because you knew every word to say
to make me the bad guy.

16. i can't blame you, because
she was easy and
an easy choice to make--
or should i say, avoid--
safe safe love
because she could never do better than you and
we both knew that i could
but you should have trusted me more.

17. but you didn't and we sounded like a seesaw with only one rider. or you saying "well my friend digs
you, he's a good guy" and me breaking to shards of porcelain, screaming like a car crash, wishing i wasn't
your angel. fallen or otherwise. because i worshiped the way the veins in your ankles crossed (all delicate
under a thin coating like an m&m, orange of course) and the freckles on your shoulders and hated that you
had to be a dream recovered from someone else's pillowcase.