This year I'm giving up shoes and social media -- just kidding

     
This new year I want to be a better person,      
so I'll do some unattainable shit like      
vow to piss away less time ,    
to run more,      
overthink less,      
drink more water,    
and eschew single-use plastic like it was      
crawling with enviro cooties      
     
and maybe I'll give up      
social media,      
and Taylor Swift,      
and my argument,    
that a taco is a    
motherfucking sandwich      
(you know it is)    
     
maybe I'll give up...      
you    
     
as much as I should      
cut the ties that      
bind our wrists      
in perpetuity    
and allow us to      
dance free in separate fields      
allow us to grow in      
an un-stunted sun      
without the apple cores      
around the tree bases      
     
I just can't.    
     
I can't give you up.      
     
Can't give up the      
feeling of falling      
in your arms      
as we push-pull      
in the front seat      
of your car,      
honking the horn      
until the neighbors      
threaten to call the police      
     
again    
     
and I can't give up      
the way my tummy flexes      
as you write our names      
with your tongue      
across my ribs    
     
in cursive      
     
or the way I curse      
the day you were born      
when you find my      
rib-tickle-spot and      
torment me until      
I'm screaming      
and vowing revenge      
for a thousand generations      
     
then calm me down      
and use your fingers      
in ways that    
make me scream      
your name      
like a vow    
I'll uphold  
for aeons  
     
My friend.      
My heart.      
My lover.      
   
I think of improving      
on my basic humanity package      
and immediately      
flash-back to    
     
Oh, love,    
Your breath in my ear,    
hand on my ass,      
teeth on my skin,      
sweat in my mouth,    
     
god, yes, baby    
your need in my night      
and the way you light      
the day beyond      
technicolor supernovas      
as you take my      
sweet throat      
in your hand and      
pin my body      
to the bed      
     
fuck yes    
knees on my chest      
as your body      
slaps freedom      
in time with      
my cries      
and the musky      
scent of us      
filtering the sheets      
and you plunge      
harder as I push      
back and      
nipples twisted      
hair wet      
slow love words      
and soft caresses      
toes curl    
red nails grasping    
and the way      
you sound      
when I ..      
     
fuck...      
     
baby...      
     
Oh god, yes      
     
please    
     
fuckingshit pleaassse.      
     
Baby, now, I love... I love...    
     
and I could give up      
the feral growl      
in your chest      
as you unleash      
an army in my body      
and you kiss tears      
from my lashes      
     
as easily as      
I could give up      
air or skin or      
ice cream.      
     
Probably better that I give up social media      
to be a better version of myself.      
     
Or shoes.      
     
Because I can't give you      
up this year.      
     
Because I can't face      
days without      
my heart in your hands      
     
Because the    
best version      
of me    
starts      
in your arms.