That pain we call desire. All the things
we want but never ask for. Why is it
hard to say adore me? are we cagelings?
baby tit birds unfit for love? unfit
to fly? We’ve flown before, back before we
were too bored to be adored. All that rush
of speed, that gush, blushing, gushing sweaty
because it feels so good. I miss that gush.
And pain. Because it is a pain. To find
just one person who won’t hurt us. Who won’t
act just for themselves. My soul, I don’t mind
where you take me and I’ll never say “don’t.”
Come with me. Let’s rush. Let’s open up doors.
Let’s go. Let us be the ones Love adores.
memories of my ghost sista 