San Francisco

It was cold as fuck the first night and every other night after. With our arms linked, our knees knocked and our needs on high we stayed warm in the glistening orbs of light – the kind that manifest when you squint your eyes in a dirty city – alive but kind and wanting. The air smelled like salted seafood but Bronze Goddess lingered in my nostrils – tasted like Katy Perry lip stain and wove a trail through the open buttons on her blouse, settling on a place entwined around our fingers – passed the empty stares. Sometimes a chill, colder then the city night, would creep across our shoulders – we’d lose it – in the heat of song, sang from the corners of every street that’d long for a fame that bellowed for God’s hand before the world’s end. And that was just fine, those endless sighs caught in a time too short to appreciate but long enough to know my life would never be the same without her.

On the drive back home, the Universe came crashing down on the roof of the car – the moon grew too big and we rode too far trying to lose a race against the lamp lights that led us home – to a time lapsed before our eyes and caught in the shadow of the life we left behind. She shook it off though – left rubber on the asphalt – a kiss on my hand – a twitch between my legs. When I collapsed on the couch, greeted by tiny hands and missed ‘mamas’ it still felt like my back was curled against the comfort of her care and soft into a King-sized mattress. Against the stillness of familiarity the city built itself into my dreams where I keep us there. Where I love her always.

© Audrey Rosengreen, 2018 – for my love

San Francisco
We took this picture together from the top of Lombard Street, San Francisco.


The Waiting Room

In every dead hour
she still finds time
to love this thing.
She pulls me
by my mouth
up into the air –
forcing the night
to relinquish its hold
from my lungs
allowing me to breathe.
& she peers into
the hollow of every
broken piece –
where everything’s LED –
but the way it bleeds
across her curls &
open lips
brings to my dying heart
a wish – to live
like the light dancing
on her skin.

© Audrey Rosengreen, 2018

The Quiet Days

a calm settles over me,
warm rays on frigid skin
soon i am bathed in amber
kissed by the sun yet
in truth an umber
dark & inviting all within
a closed splendor
there her touch removes
any trace of the battles
before her reign
and i am drenched
in a Love that seeps into
the quiet Earth
deep into the cracks
of all its mending hearts.


© Audrey Rosengreen, 2017-2018 for my love.

Bald Spot

blank stares          cautious
chewing up one side
of my head            wonder
tastes like confusion
confusion reads like

“everyone’s gonna know
you eat pussy”

i laugh like them         stupidity
wrinkles time like it does
their suburban faces
notched out like an
old walking stick. every
cut a new fag add to the

“i have gay friends too’.

some days i want to shave
my head clean.

Copyright © Audrey Rosengreen, 2017-2018