people look in the mirror all the time. pluck this little hair, smooth that little wrinkle with a finger curse the mole on their shoulder bless the plumpness of lips. imperfections. Tiny little lines formed from laughing or crying larger than life pores bursting from sweat embedded from the brow after a long days work. little nuances that prove that we are alive yet die with the cells that provide us. and we're human. human like a life grown in the womb, wet and wrinkly encased in globs of fat around bone to protect life amniotic fluid and stem cells fluidity as the river of unions gave birth to what a child should be. and somehow, some way between that beautiful birth and our end of cellular growth we are inept. ugly. imperfect. we look in a mirror. we gaze at little things that become lots of things which focus on larger issues of why beauty is not a cliche skin deep but a humongous and perpetual diminished fight against the youthfulness...

Just as simple as it goes so complex as it stays it forms an en-capsuled breath and like the wind, i'm taken away. -b.r.rivera-taylor

A slow syringe dances in my vein Euphoric contents unmeasurable in CC's and  needle pushing administration held in disdain. You are my addiction. My glazed eyes and pupils bright Dilated and fixated on skin taught, which I must fight. Remove  the sweet temptation I dare to kiss the nape of your neck The ridges of muscular pathways to the happy trail and I lick to make wet. Who can justify the slavery in which you  captivate me Addiction knows knows my name And I respond with undesirable boundaries as you are my dependency-and You are the definition Of what love means Paradise in my eyes You make me forget about the others before you You’re a state of honesty While I was living in a city of lies We exist in a bubble Every time we’re together Nothing bigger than this moment we share As the world is crashing down I am not worried I have you…honored to breathe in the same air The oxygen in my nostrils flowing to my brain Cells to the blood pumping, addiction calls...