so i gaze into the sweet
past lavender fields and
winter wheat,
coast about in the vee, then
jump wake.
into the deep horizon
before velvet cantaloupe with
a twist of cloud,
ahead of the banana sun, i know
your
bare toes slipping up my summer
skirt
and i sing welcome, i have been
waiting,
we make such loud and blinding light
neighbors pound on the door and
neighbors pound on the door and
strangers ask to come in, for
bread and coffee, our sea blue walls,
and the music of woodblocks clop,
for the percussion drive, the
double bass, and
for the poems said one line at a time,
i love you.
we are midnight.
trips to the vape shop in
bathrobes
and we are motorcycle hair and
waterbeds full of swimming salmon,
with one peacock on the table
and
one goat on the roof,
and shoplifted yellow flowers
in a small silver vase.
so i gaze into the sweet
punch through chocolate pudding skin and
punch through chocolate pudding skin and
doing the hustle in the
basement with the bee gees on blast.
please scratch my back softly
hard,
and i’ll bend past it all,
recall the spells of
lust and love and know that
the fables that instruct us are the
beads with holes too small
for the thread,
slip knots and spoons
folding finger by finger, as
you translate the lyrics
from the portuguese and finally,
i understand why the sound is
muffled
from behind the mirror.
we are whitened wood masks
and
blown glass bowls, we are bamboo
leaves, and
a certain shade of turquoise.
sugar baby,
sugar face,
you with the perfect
german ch,
you concussed me with your no.
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