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Renée Jul 2019
tanned thighs
perfect music and perfect laughs
your house sits on the hill where the bay lies
grassy and stretching down to where the water runs like a marathon medalist or a
tidal pool circling around to reach its tail
you tail me too, when we chase each other on these fine white sands
tail me, I dare you,
get me, adore me
like you do at 3 in the morning when you have me on the counter to sing to and look at me
fanned nights, palms in the sticky air of a summer evening
spread like cards on the low table
heat simmering like breakfast at 4, which we take with us
to have on cracking shells and blacked feathers along the shore
I see your skin, soft, pulling sand—your fingers—sifting beaches, straining them easily
warmer than the sun—your eyes
august nights that bring the fight into you
you’re talking nonsense, but it makes perfect sense because it’s you
rosy cloud matter hangs above ‘till I’m under glass surfacetops, at the bottom of the sea
but I wake up just above it
to be a floater—streaming boater girl, always
really, just watching you, down with another, passion firing your eyes, unlocked
I watch as I do butterflies
wild and free to fly
it’s okay, I told you
you’re suntanned and you’re mad
you’re talking, like you do
but it’s okay
because you’re free
Renée Jul 2019
cruiser-bike girl
he threw his chance with me
I thought I saw our names scored in sand—one lonely beach
one summer, one time
it’s a different time, I guess
a different scene, sea baby
maybe some time I’ll be swept away by you
you lovely, lonely current—
maybe in another sixteen.
Renée Jul 2019
you’d see her on a cruiser bike in your dreams
that girl, on rapt beaches
—that girl has more to her than perceived
guys elude me; each his
own but still the same
we delude—our name
is the one he’d sort of cry
in his sleep, or even say
i’m just that southern girl
not even—
i’m that other girl he keeps
to himself and no one else
but i was a girl
not your belonging
and not your world
  Jul 2019 Renée
smallhands
I knew I was falling when you said,
"let me take you out," and I smiled
you give me paper knees, my dear
my balance is all thrown off
each breath fills me deeper
with perfume and a cough
can any air pierce winds
dragging me from blue, even oceans
trace all imprinted breaks, my dear
may keeping pieces make you whole

-c.j.
Renée Jun 2019
put your eyes on them
skin and whiteness
and sheen
lovely hair, they
don’t see the lack-
luster life we fear
gucci on sight
yachts, mazdas
shots at midnight
hyatt in the plaza
to dream on roofs
but we sleep blanketed
they speed, shoes thrown way out—
at least our thrills are felt—
not ersatz,
not lost and dreamt
or counterfeit.
Renée Jun 2019
my blind eyes didn’t follow—
moments pass by in the rear-view
margalo, the happy years
life’s just a pool of draining shallows.
Renée Jun 2019
I was never vivacious;
Pétillant girls giggled
So did I
I was dissimulating,
Pretending at points;
In school, secondary—
Yet, after having chased reveries, flat dreams, insipid ends, and
having ruled all aims vain—
To them, I think,
I was, still, positively,
vivacious.
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