all i have now
is ten toes in the sand
and the sun on my
chest, face and shoulders
i'm completely contaminated by
this bottle in my left hand,
the first drink i've had in days.

last night i spent
two hours knuckle-deep
in your fishnets, our tongues
were playing twister while
your daughter slept upstairs.

she was dreaming
of a car on fire
and a house exploding with
magnificent light,
downstairs you were wetter
than the deepest ocean
and i had the warmth of
your whisper in my ear.

her hair was a cloud of cigarette smoke
and flowed down like beer
but smelled more like a whiskey distillery

she looked down on me
with her knees on my chest, she
popped her gum and
arched her back,
drilled a hole in my heart

but my heart still pounds and pumps
just like thunder or gasoline
when i remember that night,
and those next four days
we spent storming into
each other's secret hiding places
and driving reckless into the night.

we shared a nickel's worth
of bourbon
and a crumpled cigarette

when her parents found us
we were both
wrapped 'round each other
and in the stiff dawn light i wished
i was still wearing those
silly-looking shades.

i haven't fogotten
that night
we waded
naked
knee deep into
that brown
river

the summer
had my back
and kissed
my shoulders but
the rest of mine
was yours

the moon was
high
and full of himself
and i could see
in your eyes
you were too