a blueprint

i wasn’t made with the kind of mind that 

waits

patiently for words to come

so perfect

they need no backspace, or

punctuation;

or arms that take things as they are

instead of how i want them 

to be. 

my eyes don’t look out the window and think

lookatthatbird,thatbeautifulsky

without thinking

thatbeautifulsky would be

so much lovelier if you were in it and

my stomach were full and i had braids of sunshine in my hair.

i was given legs that

take for granted the afternoons in bed

with the crosswords; (you never knew 3 down

and neither did 

i)

my eyelashes were always too comfortable with silence

and you were only content with more,

more than my mind could give, of

my body, and

heart.

but i wasn’t blessed with that kind of mouth,

one that cries yes! with every corner and turn.

my avenues all eventually lead to 

dead ends

and this is no different than the movements of my fingers

and the way my teeth fit tight together,

how my lips crack sometimes when i smile.

i put clay on my face

and dirt in my eyes,

sing with weeds from the garden on my lips.

nothing grows in these arms but some nights you don’t seem to

mind

this mind,

less than blissfully aware

we wander through acid dreams

and our song plays on

late into the starry

night.