hand-dyed emotion—

that’s what I’m running on
with your face on mine and
the sun caught on your (left) ear

we are stripped
we are lost in a straw full of summer-

(cool and smooth on the inside of my cheeks)
and in this moment I wish I could tell you that

everything matters
there is no such thing as a
grass-field concert
or
a pool that isn’t a death t r a p for bugs
nothing (goes down easy)

it’s one of those times when
I wish more than anything you were a mirror
so I could see my clueless smile

(stained with mangos and peaches)



-long after the leaves fall and I iron my skirts again
you can’t preserve anything

you can flash freeze it or dry it or


kill it and mount it
but you can’t go back

it’s all too surreal
like I’ve imagined it so many times

I can’t even close my eyes when I kiss you


(only because I’m trying to take it all in)
I want to know what this looks like

(I say this because I don’t know what this is)
what is a newly furnished basement with

slick hardwood floors that we lay on and sleep?
what is an open-windowed car ride that

makes me choke on my hair as it (splashes across my face?)
what is a soggy bowl of cereal

drowning strawberries and raisins (that I’ve tried a million times to finish?)
nothing

(goes down easy)

not even a bare chest and strong back

assuring me this is beauty


(and this is me)

but instead of saying any of this

I just lay there with wet hair

(now drying in clumps) and wonder
how much longer I can last like this

I kiss your sunburned lips with
Eyes Wide Open