Alex (@aelindsay) • Collective gay friends app

Alex @aelindsay

What is it about love that makes me sharpen my teeth? Like a fox at the henhouse door I pace the threshold half-hungry, half-afraid, listening for the flutter that might mean ruin that might mean feast I leave the door open as if love were a guest already gathering its coat I keep the exit light on neon blinking inviting, practicing goodbyes before the room is even empty Why do I think I can grasp the wind, when to still it would be to kill it? I turn to the tide with this question and it replies only by pulling away then returning as if to say: love is not kept thing. The answer is small and ordinary I must place my palm Open in the river knowing it will not stop but pass through me

Let me be led by love

Angels are all around us if we take the time to look

Between My Hands and Yours I have learned how to ruin what is tender. It is a craft, like weaving, only backwards. Last night, the moon balanced itself on the rim of the bay. Even the tide seemed to hesitate Unsure in her ebb and flow Some people are rivers, Predictable and glimmering, But you are the black shelled water, On the floor of the bay I reach for your solidness Never certain How much longer I must hold my breath, If I will drink your sweetness Or be swallowed whole What is it about love that makes you sharpen your teeth?

Slow down and just feel these days

can’t stop thinking about her mouth