Dancing, Shifting

The fully flooded moonsky
Is lighting glowing black-grey.
Underneath the mustard sun,
The dreams are melting.

I smile, far more honest than my usual,
Interpreting her private language
Of dancing hands and shifting shoulders.
My stomach blazes.
Smoke intoxicates attempts at thinking.
There are days
I know she knows
And day
I doubt she's ever noticed.

Mercy narrowed thin her eyes.
We'd never survive them otherwise.

A setting sun is bleeding out.
I settle hoping for another dream,
A fantasy wherein she sees.

- 5/22/26

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Alone at the Museum

I explored exhibits Tracing history And present geological conditions. I realized My mind was roaming, Conjuring reactions, Thoughts,  Remarks from you All while the warmest wash Cascaded down my bones And something stirred Disturbing, comforting So deep inside my stomach. Friends are more important Than another lover. So I tell myself, But when you're close I nearly touch your skin Instinctively. I healed so greatly From my former romantic disaster. When will I Allow myself to fall again, Or has your gravity Already taken me? - 12/8/25
Read more

Entanglement

You can cobble rocks together, Hide beneath the rusty rain, Or wait until the days are hotter Than the fate we await. You're still not far enough. Two quanta matched Are dead locked, Tightly coupled, Even in another building, Even thrown across the universe. Laredo is a sleepy city. They celebrate George Washington For an entire fucking month, For thirty never-ending cursed nights. They even dedicated a museum To water. The years are dying off. The bed is growing. - 5/15/26
Read more

The Parade's Gone By

After prom, The big game, As they sweep the streets Beneath the sunrise, Do you find you're hanging on? The holiday, The love affair, The ice cream cone, The hours on the sofa In the melting light Alone. You thought you found a home, But even husbands Fade inside the fighting And go away. He jumped the gun, You see, Misreading his needy heart As if he can't decipher His own handwriting. You gave up everything. There's no one now Beside you In the dead and hollow quiet On the morning after Easter. - 4/6/26
Read more