rules are stupid, but if I call this meat in the jaw, it is just an excuse it’s not the actual danger I’m touching myself to, it’s a reminder of the vibration of it I don’t think I’m the only one? to kiss you in an alley that smells like one bad idea after another is. good. you know?

and so what if we have teeth if our mouths are warm? so what about the next day’s text messages yeah they’ll be uncomfortable! but so is my body trying to hold limbs away from your body and so is the heat that dumb heat at the elbows not touching and what is it about what Sandra wrote? “We are crazed and kamikaze. We are ripe for anarchy.” I haven’t given up on what it means to kiss mistakenly, who cares?

we filibuster our way through the month I will not write about shame, I have given it up when I said tension it grew and I felt power I wanted power I worried lost tooth, but here I mean a different worry I notice it missing

it’s hard to not imagine my thighs as salt licks I said I was sick of poems about sex but this is something different I said I wanted the privilege of writing a poem about my crushes COMMA(,) the weather not death, so:

                                                                                                           here!