licks of honey

I dreamt of love as a rose in blood

I dreamt of love as a war in vain

I thought that we would take turns

kissing the scars

we gave each other

and then cut open one more time

I thought that there would be a battlefield

riddled with the things

we gave each other

and then shattered to take back

I dreamt of love as a dream where

everything burns, like the ones I had

of the fires, where he would reach in

cradle me out, even though he was 

the one who started them

I thought that there would be so much pain

I thought that there had to be to make room for

so much desire

I thought that we ripped ourselves open

let too much out, bled hideous pieces onto the ground

so that we could let theirs find a way in

I thought that he would hit me and I’d hit him back

and that in the morning we’d caress the stings

Still red to remind us we were weapons

Still red to remind us we were the same

I dreamt that we’d spend whole days wrapped up

in clean white sheets

I dreamt that we’d spend whole nights stripped down

made naked by desperation

I thought of love as a loaded gun

I thought of love as a hell you chose

and would keep choosing

again and again and again

I dreamt like a dreamer who forgot to wake up

I dreamt like a poet who forgot how 

the next stanza goes

It starts the slow way doesn’t it

It starts the slow way, in morning

Wake up

Alone and watch the cold syrup drip

Dark and thick

Down to where it was supposed to be 

Wake up and draw everything

from top to bottom

saved and savior traced by fingertips

Wake up and feel everything burn

Not the way it did in the dream but the way

it does all day, cradled in not out

Wake up and lick the honey

Let it coat everything

Let it drip all over the floor

Let it touch all the roses

Cover all their thorns