We danced into a desert town,
Decided to stay all summer and breathe in smoke
Instead of looking for the mountains,
Instead of finding a skyline worth lunging for.

When I left I said don’t wait I’ll be back
And you said dance right back over here
My feet felt like oars, weighted, endlessly mobile.
Waterless.

Here’s a question.
What are oars in a desert?

Here’s a question.
Who goes dancing without a place to dance to?

I want to see you stripped
down to bare elements;
a deaf-blind entry
into knowing you,
because I am tired of words,
words, words,
and a lack of warmth
beneath my hands.

I want to see your hair
spread like a river delta
over the pillow;
content and raw
with exhaustion and red wine.
Drunk and torn
from the monotony
of long nights in an empty bed.

I have been told
That I have to learn how to smile
Because I have been using it in the wrong way
I thought it was to tell people you are okay
Even if you aren't
Apparently it is to show people
You are happy

Your soft lies hang gently
In the clouds in your dreams
And wreak havoc
As they rain down in mine

Pretty they said, oh but it was summer
when she bloomed, and wildfires came along
dancing across fields - wind songs
blowing through her mind
and there she stayed
sleeping much too late
to flee the lake of fire

Space.
Time to erase
The scars and bruises
I've given myself after getting too close
To things that hurt my mind
My heart
My skin.

My scars will fade.
I've just got to wait for
my memories to catch up.