At night
I am sitting in the back of a bus
Staring down the dark narrow center
While shadows slide against the floor.
It’s a bumpy ride, but I feel calm —
Like something could slither next to me,
Whisper dark things in my ear,
And I would know
Exactly
What to do.
By: Allison Gems
I like the chip on your shoulder
I like the howl in your voice
Just the right imperfections.
Your opinions carry a little more weight
You’re dropping your vowels and I’m taking the bait
I can almost feel your teeth
on my shoulder blades
It’s my velvet you’re snagging
My focus you’re dragging
What I’m saying is you’re resonating
That ever-present almost touch,
little
– aching –
space
Between our fingers
Someone should paint us on the ceiling
Revel in this glorious agony we’ve created
Let’s make the tourists pay.
By: Allison Gems
I want to hear my name in your mouth
Say it.
— Just —
Say it.
By: Allison Gems
The girls in the margins of my notebooks
Have eyelashes like flames
Hooked noses
Eyeliner
Dimples
Big, curvaceous lips.
Some have freckles
Others, piercings
A few with teeth.
Some have necks
Chokers and shoulders
Cleavage and diamonds
But all of them
Stare at me
With the same hand drawn eyes
That say,
I
Know
You.
By: Allison Gems
Allison Gems 