~


I saw soft eyes on the promise fueled sunset
Coffee dark skies in a marmalade blush
Pastels now tinted of wayward decisions
Meadowlarks sing in a smooth whispered hush

Corn field desires drain simplistic notions
Run with me there down the row ever straight
Listen,  our hearts speak in feathered emotions
Love stands to prove it is never too late

Everyone sat
criss-cross-applesauce
in our hearts.
Perfume is made
with dead things, right?

I try hard to sound
important,
when I write *******
because
there are bodies
reading this *******.

And bodies grow and wither.
They thrive and survive.
They get married
and die alone.
They die.

To become dead.

Perfume is made
with dead things, right?

I feel so far from everyone.
Isolated.
They are unaffected by my pungent aroma.
Perhaps I won't wash.
Then my smell might waft into their lives.
I'd be noticed for once.

Wisconsin, fine--
We sit on state lines.
Across the street, Rodeo Drive.
Move a little bit
and East L.A. makes you feel alive.

Go to the diner
where the mermaids wear aprons
and hold out menus like personal stock.
Where the surfer-rama drama in the diner deep
allows them to let go of those they keep.

And you and me and those we love,
keep us finite, because why not.
I could tell you how to eat your waffles
if you will be the spoon that stirs my coffee.

Listen to me,
"Rachel, there's no one, right now,
that I'd rather sit and eat breakfast with than you.
And if it doesn't work out,
and we choke on our meals, that's fine.
I just want to try when I'm with you."

We exchange glances
and I'm sure, then,
that I adore the aplomb,
for your smile leads myself
into believing and being more.

The freckles across her unknown face
Were like stars kissing her cheeks
And I was envious of them.

The scars across her tired legs
Like a map showing me each place
Her mind has ever been.

Her weary chest a living urn
Holding ashes of which I have learned
Are from her love now dead.

The smile sweet upon her lips
Fake as the words on an actors script
But few will ever know that truth.

The liquid drowning her bright eyes
'Ever ignored like time passing by
Now finally I can see her.

-ARI