The hills are coated in message boards
and chatroom callers: dirty little whores,
with solitary arms, and a message for me
My lesson was learned so completely,
at the hands of a girl; she taught me
driveway-love—where the kisses and
palms go—where tongues and fingers go.
We shed so little skin, in flasks
of craving—nursing, baby sips, but noting
all is not forgiven, when nothing
comes, of all that liquid-quick.
“O how I wish I could taste a mere second
of your hours.” Cataracts: a new baptism;
we seek young-love, as the bridal showers
pour over bleachers—the insipid flowers.
We can spread our great philosophy,
and make love on the arrases, while
wading through deep, verdant puddles,
soiled envy; I wish so deeply,
that you’d just wake up here inside me.
How I covet you, and all those curves of perfect
sleekness; dear girl, wait for me—for only a few
more minutes…before this precious ride of shivers,
comes to lay you forever to rest.