He was a man of rugby, with a smile of diamond teeth and strawberry lips.
He was a trouble maker and of quietus; kept his kingdom free of hassle. 
He was all I could have wanted, and still I didn't. 

Donnie Darkens the room and the television, the man next to me as a storm when I lay.
A problem of mercury. A strange scenario. 
3 AM and I turn over to his back, shirtless. Only a matter of hours and yet I already needed to graze my fingers. 
He was all I could have wanted, but I still didn't.
Two weeks, he sleeps through the rain. He twitches and jumps all night, a dreamer through and through. An offer for flavored smoke and ice cream. I decide an ultimatum. I am going to fall off this bed unless I do something. The cold hard floor and I align. 
He was all I could have wanted, but I still didn't. 

-A

New York.

There's a vision which clouds my mind.
A wild thought and a wandering restlessness.
The thought of you here,
Or me there,
Christmas time in the city.
A thousand buildings all lit
As if the flame in my chest is
Consuming the rooms.
But they are not the focal point,
They are simply man made portals
For paperwork and corruption.

I imagine myself walking down the drive,
Your hand in mine,
With a warm coat over my shoulder,
Along with the visible evidence of your breath.
But you,
I don't quite know who you are.
Even still,
After all these years I still don't know you.
And as the snow crunches underfoot,
I envision being taken by you,
Consumed,
Wholly and purely and without needing to
Prove myself.

And then as we walk there together,
Past the wooden dock and over the frozen lake,
We realize that maybe,
Just as the flakes of snow
Find their sole purpose in falling
And freezing onto more of these flakes,
So do we.
All we are,
Precipitation.