carl sandburg and michael chabon, mostly

I now claw and tear apart books
by reading aloud - clinging to just any sound
that sounds like eternity or flaw,
and then lick my bloody paws
tasting iron and sugar,
passion and death.

On another note - "Ohhh I wish
I had a suntan! A pizza,
A bottle of wine!"
we sing, joyous,
flipping the untamed waves of our hair.
It is well earned, these celebrations that give
dance music, full voices, king cobra and subtle noises.
Our nights are long, i grab some lust for life
between my teeth.

And to my blondeheaded betterhalf,
let the joy kill you
stay away from little deaths.
Theres barely a moment that passes where
I don't calculate days and hours
until we will tear the paint off of walls
with our laughter.
I'll admit, we are more similar than meets
the outside eye,
I've kept my cool while i've destroyed most things
I've ever destroyed, but theres a rotting bruise
on the inside.
One thing I know, though, is to take a deep breath
and let go all you've got, spread it across
our little world
theres somekind of beauty you hold
i've seen nowhere else.