the way this goes

there is no training camp
for love like romances
for heart quakes and heart aches
how to stop and go-on demand on and off course
read my face and tell me,tell me its not a face that longs for you.
i have waited.and i have ached.
for the wrong ones,and then the right,and whose to say you or you or you have ever loved me
each flaw
each misake

oh the forest of my feelings,
my sweet sweet love,my moonchild mystery.

barefoot -branches pushing deep
into your skin.
moonbeam boy,i was: 
tree bark shoes and bug soup
you were consuming. you mammoth heed.

the days
long with the sun 
beating down -upon our baby shoulders
we look so new with our brown skin
I was looking -into the river at my reflection
crying for the pale
you were kissing me on my forehead
and then we began to speak of potions
our collections,our hauntings,our burned up memories

Dear moonchild,
How has our hair grown to be this long?
the very length of the daisy chains
we made the summer everything changed.

on tuesday: you are sleeping
by a lonely fire
and i am sailing,days and nights,and i was waiting:
for just one more moment
of time.

you fragment
you freak.

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