“Of the hundred times I’ve kissed you in my dreams,
it’s never felt right. Every time,
your mouth is all wrong; my tongue
is all left. We press together and
my metaphorical heart skips a beat,
but we are less kissing–
more slow-dancing out of step,
less kissing–more
teenagers with twisted cherry stems
we can’t Houdini into knots.
If this
is yet another red flag I have
mistaken for surrender, then I am sorry
for the selfish way I hold my body
for the both of us.
I wake up
and convince myself that the
make-believe car accident of our mouths
has everything to do with the months it’s been
since anyone properly kissed me and nothing
to do with the fact that even my subconscious
doesn’t know how to touch you.
I’m a coward.
Anyone else would have found the word “love”
somewhere more real than poetry.
You are not the first ship I’ve gone down with,
but you might be the fastest. So
you’re the prettiest anchor
I haven’t even kissed yet–
you’re prying out my teeth with a guillotine.
This isn’t the way I wanted to write about you.
This isn’t your fault, anyway.
See, it’s not that I made you into a god–
It’s that you were just a man
and I made you out to be a mountain.”
- LARGER THAN LIFE by Ashe Vernon
Published on July 28, 2015 21:25