there's something lovely about

a lightning storm

thirty-five miles away

silent and looming 

wild strikes light up the dark sky

indifferent to all but its own power

nature's wrath in mime

the soft skin of the pale forearm

so smooth and so whole

a clear swath, hairless and sublime

i'm trying to remember

but my fingernails beg to differ

forgive me for my forwardness

just ten minutes ago

for i was young and stupid

and under the mistletoe

it's been a while

since i last hurt so deep

i felt the empty ache

resonate in my bones.

it's been a while 

since i last smiled so wide

if i'd not clutched the ground

i'd have left it behind.

too long since i last gave myself-

utterly and eagerly-

in every way i possibly can:

i think

i feel like falling in love again.

i drink a cocktail of moonlight

and 80-proof vodka.

it soothes its own burn going down.

my breath is sour over my tongue.

i whistle, and silvery light curls from my lips.

it forms a constellation i've seen before.