blue – Sincerely, Jennifer x

White owls wail like they’ve heard this tale before,
like they know how it ends,
an endless screech as the sun sets,
but life is full of surprises,
so maybe those wailing warblers will sing a sweet song after all.

I am constricted under the cool glow of my magnificent moon,
she smiles down, as if I am her most treasured daughter,
and with every moment, I am unraveled,
finding freedom as the seconds slip by,
and she whispers warm wishes in my pierced, imperfect ear.

My madness has become a map.
I slink along the streets like a snake,
teddy bear in hand,
wild words between my luscious lips.
The night’s sky is shining and there is a bright light in my eyeline,
for once, I know exactly where I’m going.

Rainbows rise beneath my shoes,
and I don’t sing the blues anymore, my baby blue,
because you are clear within my sights,
and the white owls are jamming to some sweet jazz.

Twenty two forever,
on the 21st,
crowned by carnations,
late in life prom queen,
balancing along the beams,
of the blue sky.

I hear you call to me,
on your birthday,
on our first day,
on her anniversary,
your mouth still and shut.
Everybody is texting and talking.
We’re alone,
at last.

I fall down,
hoping to hang myself
on your aged arms,
so you can see twenty two again.
Clear and clean,
still dreaming,
daring to dance in dirt,
covered in blood,
but free of bruises and scars,
like you used to be.
Maybe this time,
it will be forever.

I’m still alive,
blue butterfly,
caught in a net,
of lace dresses,
human hair,
hurried heartbeats.

Tell yourself it’s just tonight,
tangled with me,
and my teasing.
We’ll throw the calendar
from the highest floor,
and time will be tempted by our young, dumb smiles,
to leave us in our lace, lust mess.

blue carnations jennifer juan butterfl.jpg

Maybe this time,
we will be together.
Forever.
Together.
Whatever.
Whatever.

It’s hard to talk,
when you kiss me.

My crown is dying,
faster than either of us expected.
I’m thrown from my throne,
to my knees,
caressing your calves,
snaking around your sense of gravity,
still alive,
learning to be a melted ice queen,
who can belong to you,
without feeling I am no longer my own.

Forever.
Together.
Whatever.
Whatever.

It’s hard to think,
when you’re near me.

I’m still alive.
I’m still yours.
I’m still mine.
Twenty two forever.
Alone, at last.
Yours, at last.

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