My flag is a traffic light And at night it glows red and green And Ive seen everywhere So I guess in that sense the road really is my home And Ive got poem after poem of what it was like to miss a homecooked meal Of what it was like to wake up and feel my arm draped over your absence Breathing in your skin like incense And I bet you never knew that when Im sleeping beside you, I wake up to make sure Im holding you I feel like a mountain that doesnt know its being climbed As your breath is timed With the in and out of mine I rub my hand up your spine like it was the center line of a highway With no stop signs Hit the intersection where your shoulders meet your neck And past the car wrecks of past boyfriends Who parallel parked on dead ends And I just hope your skin lends me an extra mile So I can slow down Take a while to admire the landscape And drape my arm over your being there this time When it comes to your skin Im a drunk driver Just trying to walk a straight line And some days collapse on me like the nights And I can tell I havent slept when the light peeks through the blinds And finds me with my eyes wide open Hoping I can take all these poems I printed on postit notes Fold them into tiny boats Then launch them towards the shores of your skin Where they can begin to colonize Take up roots in your eyes Weigh anchor in the harbor of your thighs Until the tiny hairs on your body begin to rise Like a million flags brought to mass And at long last I no longer have to roam And I finally understand those sailors who plant their lips to the ground I do the same to your body, its because you taste like home And what I said was Ill miss you What I meant to say was that I love you What I wanted to say was that I meant what I said I miss you like I miss my own bed After too many nights of sleeping on couches Or hardwood floors Or sitting silently behind the doors Of hotel rooms became wounds Breathing life in to this loneliness I miss you Like a burn victim must miss their own skin I miss you like a sad ending Must miss someplace new to begin Because some say that the highway becomes a flat line If you travel it for too long I cant tell if thats true or false But Im racing down it towards you trying to find my Pulse
miss, skin, poem, like, begin