you cling to my tongue.
I breathe you in,
fog shadow
on cool summer nights
outside coffee shops where
hep cats
get their me-ows
in the moonlight.
You mark me-
fingertip to stainless steel,
a stain with a story.
Salacious.
Capricious.
You amuse me.
You move me to make movements which
otherwise would have left stones un-turned.
You are roses that burn in the sunrise
mimicking the morning sky
mocking the moon.
You are June,
and you slip down my skin
like sweat silver.
You’re a sliver of glitter
clinging to my morning neck.
You are heat on my breath-
when you leave
I have nothing left.
Written Ottawa 2012, Photo North Carolina 2010
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