Pineapple makes the roof of my mouth itch / and the tips of my fingers to blush pink / offset by the sparkle sticking juice / these are the kinds of things / reminding me of poolsides /

I can’t leave the way / sunwaves on pavement on skin / sinking into the meat of my body / and under my eyelids / that sigh closed / to the red glow lid / feeling / there’s a twisting shape of my hips / as they flutter in dance / I want to ignore everything but the night sounds / and whisper of lips on iced drinks

I ask myself to leave the patios of mid summer / to check the curtains that slap / and I know what kind of person I need to be / and the sounds of music from another room / spilled like sticky pineapple on your hand / you’re finding you / don’t really want to wash off that other you off / it’s just only these kinds of dreams / making these kinds of noises