i'd like to get drunk
off of sweet nectarine
and make love to the sound of pattering
rooftop rain
reciting declarations written on
cafe napkins, bits of dreams birthed
from hazy afternoons
sunlight the kind that sends you into
a tantalizing dance, fleetwood mac humming
from the phono graph
a scratch along the window screen
from the neighborhood tabby
naked beneath your sweater
collecting lint
to be plucked,
absentmindedly away
as kisses collect
scorching the hands
that dared to pull
the crust of the earth