clinging to visions of some ancient mexican summer,
aware of the herbs,
the spices of your body,
aware that all things taste
in a way unto themselves like tiny collapses,
explosions that explode in sequence,
i lose myself describing flowers,
the richness of freshly drawn soil,
the leaves that rush forward
where i've swept back
& you.
i fall into the small moments
where the darkness of melodies live,
thumping out some lucid memory
that mirrors the flesh of your turquoise,
the pulse that sends the air shimmering,
the glistering echo of the ocean inside us
pulling us towards lost coastlines,
tugging at our clothes
until we're nude in the orange wind
& chewing on stars from open mouths
where none of the light gets in,
where the skin remembers everything
as if we were children that never learned
not to put our fingers where the flame begins.
if i'm falling,
hold on to what i'm becoming
so that we might float together in this way
through this world that spins because i'm near you,
through these poems that seem to have a mind of their own
amongst the puzzles of your body
& your lips that seem to linger though they're missing
in the blueness of the early light that wakes me
to these thoughts of you.
& you seem to haunt me,
even in my unlived futures,
like a fog
that rests lightly over everything i know.
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Submission Name: the flesh of your turquoise 
