backseat/confetti

you. you. only you. the feel of your warm breath

against my neck;

your undercover love touch in bed, 

your knees lonely and boney

fingers gripping flesh 

as your chords vocal grapple a song full only of hooks-

your body lovely sings a beautiful yet hard melody 

which right hooks me to sleep

till i dream 

all robert and frosty 

yelling

at mountains 

and tellin’ it to captains

sail ships through this solar plexus

as i drive you to heaven and back in an out-of-date lexus

we’d both never purchase

me

for free; i’ll perch

solemnly with fervor

on yr tree- i’ll kiss you

yet dream of her- i’ll curl roll both yr bodies into one

hundred and two dalmatians and blue tooth 

talk to myself procrastination- castanets, confetti, 

and cracked eggshells, bicycles 

with baskets and (dumb) 

bells

i lift for love. 

and i love you.

you. you.

only you. yet

you 

are 

two.