between the thunderstorm that shadowed you
from the heels of spoken poetry to my bed
and the heated sunfire that lit me across the street
from where you waited, an angle away from the last light
a romance of elements
has made itself available to us
i sense its presence while i tentatively
circle the perimeter,
inquisitive and unsure.
these doors and drugs and laughter
are intoxicating playthings, rendering our moments
and so i get carried away with flavors inspired
cracking through my thick survivor’s glaze
i want to go to japan and morocco and timbuktu with you
watch coconut bubbles pop colors in your bath
i can be the one who reads your words.
i can be your southern summer.
i am constantly traveling, even when the satellites
would categorize me immobile
but your gaze renders me (still)