thimbles

i never know how to say the things that  break under my fingers like bread crumbling, like bread crumbs, rising in the oven like the california heat or the shingles on your roof that burn our feet and never scar them. i am never able to write about your lips like honey, or the texture of your tongue, i can't say what it means to me to be twirling in your bed like ballerinas or ice cream cones. i never know how to describe it, i can't tell if it's that i get lost in the moment or if i don't, if i'm too busy acting. tonight i wanted to ask you whether you ever act differently in front of other people, like a chameleon, sometimes i feel like a chameleon in a cage but not with you, or do i? is it just another color? that i don't know, maybe i'll never know, maybe my pining will some day get an answer or maybe it won't, even at the gates when we meet god, god part of me hopes we meet him together, lately i don't know what i'd do without you, or everyone, all of us, what would i do without all of us? i never know what to think, sometimes i try to convince myself to think within certain boundaries, mark buoys  in the lake, i contain them like asian carp, my thoughts have fangs under their lips, and i am constantly in a straight jacket with my arms tied. but you untie them often, and i wish i could talk about you holding onto the strand and spinning me, letting it go, untying a corset, lifting the weights off of me, like birds, carrying me, blowing out candles, sometimes i have this urge to explode on you, like shaken champagne, volcanoes or broken septic tanks, spill onto you, all the things i keep, i want them out sometimes, i want to lay them on you, neatly, in perfect rows and columns, like stacked books, organized alphabetically and dusted daily. there's nights when i question you, i think about your teeth or something shallow, the truth is i think i left you for a rainbow, the hope of gold at the end of it, some kind of trophy, but i was a fool to think there was any chemistry out there sunbathing in the greener grass. there's a cauldron between us, carpet rubbing against my shins, your words cuddling into my ear lobes, how many times do i have to remind myself that you electrify me, even inches from you, i feel lightning, i was chasing the fear of never knowing, perfect teeth and expensive shaving bristles, but in the storm i've learned to love your imperfections like you love mine, they feel like home to me now, i sat in front of the mirror without a shirt on and tried to see what you see in me, see my naked body like old portraits of naked women wrapped in silk and posing under olive trees, never ashamed of themselves, and i feel comfortable, at least a little bit, i wish i could write about that feeling, describe it like dough rising, doubling in size, your polaroids developing, sand on the sidewalks and your plaid shorts, peddling, the sun setting over a bad caesar salad, these are the moments people make movies about, clouds in the shape of eagles, pelicans chewing on fish, hands in bad haircuts, discussions of dinosaurs and moon conspiracies, last night you read to me from a wrinkle in time, sometimes that is what we feel like, a wrinkle in time, the sky sighing with its eyes, i try to imagine what you do when i'm not there, whether you sit cross legged and if you sleep on your side, i wish i knew everything about you, everything about everyone, maybe.