Rinsing over porcelain skin

Skin still too pale for the end of summer

Washing, cleansing, every curve, every bend

Water droplets gather in pools around my unpainted toes

Parachuting raindrops released from freshly-trimmed ends

Of hair that will soon disappear

Naked green eyes clear of disoperation

Gaze at the foreignness of this summer waterfall.

I part my lips to taste the mountain air

Condensed into a life source

Icy in July, fresher than filtered

A German Shepard gazes at my silhouette

Caramel and black, fur bristling with excitement

With kind brown eyes

Sparked with curiosity,

Lapping the water with his pink tongue.

Remember the pitch of the leaky faucet

In the third floor restroom

Neither male

Nor female

Nor both.

Speaking in unison

That pitch

What was the ******* pitch

Dribbling eighth notes

Tears worth pinning on your wall

Next to your unused bottle of sunscreen

From the time we drank in your living room

And I realized you cared.

There is a star on my pocket

But I won’t remember it tomorrow

Nor will I remember why

I connected the six-petaled flower hole

To Afganistan. Sleek. Smooth.

I slid a straw through my ear

Gazing past the green disoperation

And noticed two formings of pimples beneath the right brow

But maybe I imagined that too

Along with the adrenaline and curiosity and false negativity.

Shooting through my ankles

Enveloping every muscle fiber

Every menacing footstep

I approach the door of Debussy

Wading deep into the kelly green

“Open” sign

Sharpied just so no one ever flips it.

Every frazzled hair follicle  executes

Frustration towards the poor soul

Entering doom.

Marracas from elementary

I whispered beneath my mustache

“Fancy seeing you here”

Lingering my capillaries over their stitching

A live animal in a dead environment.

Pink toes and the Sostenuto pedal

Beckon my return to civilization

I remember why I’m here.

I remember why I’m not.