The Wild Boy

I find you on Sunset Blvd with heavy eyes,

lips cradling a cigarette.

You pick me a white carnation

from my neighbors lawn--you thought I’d like it.

Your face lifts and falls, you shed feelings

like they don’t belong to you.

You taste like the sweet of life;

the thing we’ll miss when it’s all over,

reminding us it will be over.

I find you in our little house,

ready to run from reason and doubt.

I want to trust you, but trust is when

you stop fighting. If I put down my fists,

the world would not recognize me.

We’ve fucked in the bed less than we’ve eaten in it,

and we’ve fucked on the counter more than we’ve cooked on it.

We play house until we can’t anymore

because we are too big and this house is too small.

Photo By: Kelly Balch