You who I would, for

For Taylor.

I have seen something in you that sets free all apathy and anarchy once trapped in my cracked youthful shell.

I have seen something in you that birthed a plumage fire, violetly raging up and down the dreary April streets of Minnesota, threatening a sunny day;

that opened wide the channel that boring boat-locked beloved's flaunt and tease under the beaming moon, lonely insistent;

that abominates the very idea of selfishness, shifting all the self-imposed reds and blues into a more glinting kind of green, a more macaroni kind of yellow, shades never thought of for solely self;

that liberates cages of families gnawing at ancestor's bones, licking even the most seductive of juices just to taste their ignorance and learn their permanent poverty lesson;

that strikes me as darling, but to those on tennis-court chairs, the darling length of hair that I find elusively breathtaking only covers their horror judgmental eyeballs;

that covers all basements quiet, frozen to attics raging, burning because your pumping heart never will fail to be heard by those with pens in their veins;

that plunges youthful innocence into sexuality raw and cunning, with sun poring heat adding layers of skin to nerves that shrivel with pleasure as they're molested infrequently;

that protects those less able to see the heart of the mind or mind of the heart, taking solely a finger of all the blind and dismentaled to lead them into a life of forever mystery;

that depends upon morning, for it proves that all the dicks and cunts, who kept your night anger alive subsiding, failed to see the lines etched between the stars; i did.

I have seen something in you that blooms entirely free of roots that suck out the earth accidentally, keeping rainwater bloating for a season where the rain just one day disappears;

that tears apart the moonbeams crashing into clearer waters that all people of plain descent struggle towards, heads bobbing, whirling, floating towards the blinking scars of sky;

that ignites an impression into my sheets, your candy cane mouth tracing my weak spots, your birthmark smile leaving stains on the pillows, all to keep some hope alive for children;

that kicks down and mouth-covers all pseudo-intellectual teen arters into spitting on their own tables and writing forum posts about how deep they had made the puddle;

that curses me into thinking you could handle the spike-laden vomit that uprises from the orifices of my chilled fingertips;

that sweats silently, in between the balmy errands and structured essays that bind the creativity that emboldens you, that beheld you;

that extrapolates children into writing love poems with the clippings of their toenails or fibres of their cereal;

that bathes in affection unknown, but with sincerity comes identity, which leaves all affection to pixie dust disguised.

I have noticed something in you that shines brighter to those with slithery twisted mouths, asking only for a friend before they die corrupt decay corpse die, but would secretly fuck you hard, long, extinguishing that emerald shine into an unmistakable azure; i know their secret.

I have felt something in you that lavishes the hungry soul into a luminated midnight, full of lilies and pianos and kisses vanilla chocolate and all!

Something that lingers between every layer of fog, endangering those who drive blank-faced on 694, in fast-moving meditation;

that starts to me a new generation to lose the beats, lose the bombs, lose the self-control, lose the awkward clothing and hats and adorable scarves, lose the urge to stay awake, lose the words to capture anyone anymore, so that we all may sleep without breath, walk without hints of hidden desire, talk without making any rhyme.

I have seen something in you:

that warmed the blood of Jesus;

that shamed whores of Egypt and of new decade High School;

that releases repressed desire through crimson winks and baby blue sighs; desire that afflicts and rapidly shifts to nightmares repressed, redressed to a golden yellow of sincerity, my Konstantine, without any element of consciousness;

that turns me to all different angels, who grant cautiously the wishes we deliberately chose in our dreams: blood-sleep eternal, hearts of waterfall rocks, keys to minds that once knew you.