Life

All my leaves have

fallen at my feet,

a tree

dry and brittle

but there are nests

in these branches,

proof that life 

is merely a season

                       away. 

Untitled (Intentionally)

Can I take your insecurities

and fuck them

how they were meant to be?

Can I use them up

until they shiver? They can

tell me to stop 

but not mean it. 

They can scratch against

my back - I'll like it. 

I will elicit a response

and cradle your 

I wish I was better 

until it comes out of you 

and into me. Let me taste

your inner hesitancy. Let me

digest it into something else,

like a better sense of self,

like a fuller version of me.