Author: Jess

waking,
there is a sunlight which dusts
across the roof of the hotel
and this is my view of omaha:
thinking, just two years ago
i hoped academia would lead me here.
and, of course, then i had you.
all of the subtle meaning
behind our kisses–
the lusty wanting for satisfaction
of every humanly desire.

but omaha,
however pretentious
and funded would have meant
missing that single moment
where yr heart held yr nerve hostage
and you asked for everything you wanted.
posing the question as though
it were reversible
if only to keep yr heart off the line
and days later we find ourselves:

waking,
there’s a stubble which dusts
across your face, a sure sign
of comfortable.

((Our hearts dangle on strings
in this plane which we’ve painted
with the blood we lost
in the holes we tore
in our arms and on our faces))

I hope we re-entangle
before the fray claims victory.

you know, i’ve got some resolve in me, too.
hidden, somewhere.
i cleaned house for hours tonight.
just so i could leave.

and then my brother calls with a reason,
describing sirens
and slaps.
lies and alcohol.

I don’t know about you but nothing is all I’ve got.

And i was gonna go, too.

there’s this place where my emotions
push my tongue against my sealed lips
and no sound emanantes from my throat
but the gargle of pushed back tears
((you’ve always been))exactlyright((about me)).