In the springtime between the everglades and mountainside
I have talks with the sun about moving on
but between the downtown city streets and 7:54pm sunsets,  
I don't know if I can.

In the summertime I find myself between the trees and the glow of light against your face until very late into the evening
driving down back roads
and talking about the past,
smoking funny plants
and speaking of our dreams.

You're lost and you don't know it,
don't worry, I am too.
There are too many things to say
and not enough time
as my thoughts collapse over the other in three's and two's.
entering the bacchanal with my own elixirs in my pockets,
the chorus of voices collide against one another into a harmonious babble.

it's 6:48pm where I am,
the sun is setting on your side of town.
if these roads could bend until they led me to where you are,
I still don't think I'd follow along.

I lost my heart to a bear trap
while searching for yours in the grove,
freckle-spotted strawberries
and cracked jars of honey
littered the path for miles on end.

I followed your gaze out of the wooden corridor and found cherry blossoms tucked between folds of linen as I greeted the morn.
Your grin is so fixed that
I look to it to find the humor
even if I'm the joke,
and I think of the way your eyes looked
when you were too stunned to speak; hand to mouth,
until I fall asleep and meet you in my lucid dreams.