I am haunted by those green and white nights. I felt it; every time God was kissing the pool water and we pressed daisies between our synchronized heartbeats. We used our womanhood to make the tree, with a furrowed brow and beer stuck in his knees. Curly headed boys tickled his cheeks with broken guitar strings; I was drinking in the moss and a mystery tune. The lights strung us with lustful dust and that yellow trail was the beginning of what might need to end. The stars feared for their innocence as they kissed in the fields but I was halfway in the warm earth, telling myself that a bed of pine was as close as I could come to heaven. The reverberated sunrise revealed veins wrapped around a palm tree but the indie rokkers shivered through the night into a painless red. We were jumper cable lips tied to fountain limbs and I wonder if we ever even touched the ground. He placed
nervous ticks into cargo pockets with syllables of vibration pulsing warmly through his skin. There were some nights without any ghosts but there are so many shades of blue shoved into the happy memories. Haunted by the royalty of trees, our plaid poems drank all of the extra beer and you always whisper friendship into my ears.