Sometimes when I was young
I could trick myself into thinking
I lived in another world
But now I am not so easily convinced
by the lies I tell myself.
And I miss the future I made.
And I miss those worlds.
And I miss myself.

Quick glance, look away.
Heart beat, cool step
Look away.
Look up, missed glance, look away.
Small smile, slick nod
Look away.
Heavy touch, eyes lock, look away.
Hot breathe, sweet lick
Look away.

Soft line of the feminine
curving, growing, blending.
The smooth rise and fall
--full.
Fingers point to the desired one,
firm and warm they press.
Tracing back, grasping neck
--full.

The hot sun opens my heart
and the bloom stings my eyes.
Body on body
body on water
water on sweet green grass,
Summer begs me to grow.

I think a lot about the scents of my youth
The lavender soap by my grandparent's sink
The honeysuckle in the chainlink fence
And the smell of my home that I've forgotten

I used to write for you,
but now I write for myself.
And that is enough.

The moon rose,
    and collected
    like dust
    on the back of his
                                    neck.