you tell me a joke
and i laugh and look to the sea
jelly legs and jelly heart
squishy from my dreams
projecting thoughts to the sky
where the southern cross is home
let’s keep walking,
i’ll keep talking
you can listen to the bones
light pollution advocator and part-time music snob-
the whimsiest pair
of contradictions
whose strings were ever
knot
-ted.
so,
here’s my secret:
the magic in the air
is my magic in the air
is the salt that sticks to your skin
is the dust that i lick from my lips
and you should know
that it is not just the heat that slicks my palms
but the way that you see me
how your eyes press me to the floor,
and brush the sand from my face,
and stretch my mouth open wide
oh, it’s a holy heat
and i need your air
now