naked in the Sunday sun
the fan licks
everything I hung on the black wall
dancing with corners coming unstuck
the fluttering
he's painting a flower with his tongue
I'm tripping on colors
rainbows, black and sunshine
subterranean matter making earthly shapes
holographic, sparkling
what even is a relationship?
an envelope you step in and out of
consent to a mutual reality
something to see by, to see through
I sit on the bench over the beach
with a cigarette as heavy as the ocean
little girls or are they little seals
bobbing in the surf
this doing nothing
is who we really are
I want to see the flowers the way I saw them
I want to see the people they way I saw them
I want to hear the celestial music
see the higher order again
be better for the people I love
make them better too
