The Flowers Do Listen, Like Butterfly Kisses. Along The Wispy Road.

People have the wonderful ability to tell you exactly what they need; most of the time they don't mean what they say.

I finally realized that sometimes the worst kisses were really the best kisses.

Like every time we tried to kiss and our teeth hit because we couldn't stop giggling and laughing.

Or when our lips were tight against our face, because we couldn't stop smiling at each other.

Those were the kisses we had.

Even after years of being together, those were our kisses.

Beautiful, memorable, awful kisses.

She says, I love you

but what she really says is,

"tell me you love me."

My silence

does not sit well with her

Like Eve of Eden

she suddenly becomes aware

of her own nakedness,

fashioning clothes out of bedsheets

pulling them towards herself

with a hint of disdain.

I don't blame her,

her reaction is justified.

I have been in her place before.

I will love you into oblivion

my little disco Death Star,

in our secret society built for two.

your serial thrills my moth cult kills

you grow into my deep dark places

like mold upon my bones

the gap in the tooth and crook of your nose

my pretty baby full of grace

dripping red drippy drops along the floor.

She has phases like the moon,

each wax and wane equally predictable.

I live by a lunar calendar.

You are on infinite repeat. ❣️🔁❣️

The stains of human history

can never be erased,

only masked over until tolerable.

Bee butts, drive me nuts.

I once lived a very Eeyore-ian life. Now I am tickled pink at the absurdity of it all. The contradictions and hypocriticals of living an authentic life.

Title: All that you love will be carried away.

Artist: Local Idiot (self)