How to put this
how to keep this
delicate
cleaning the childhood
out of mind
but keeping it
in mind
as I pull
up my shirt,
letting you feel
the scar
from my youth
and I'll be
seeing you soon,
I'll see you there
dirt
in our hair
and fireflies.

If I could have my way
we would only
grow younger
and not as strangers
to ourselves,
undoing all we know
cleaning the dust
off the shelf.
I know you better
in my chest,
girl as beacon
of light
of summers
in the past.

When you leave me
do it slowly,
keep me dark
keep me waiting.
Only the dirt
will know
what you're thinking,
as you sink
into the fever
of the season.
Mary,
lay on your back
with the tv
on
it lights up your dress
and turns your distress
into a million
colored lights.

Caught
in a small town
but you are
made up of the world
in your short skirt
and honey skin
only showing
in patches
when the sun touches
down upon
your window again.
In your old Buick,
a kaleidoscope
of summer
crashing down in
dreams
in the heat of this town.
A dream in which
I am turned around,
breathing in color
and looking for you
now.