I’d love to steal one of your
brother’s vintage cars and
go for a spin. If I said come
with me, we could be
re-fashioning old, fearful things,
like what people say
if you mark me as your theft, or
pay allegiance to my mouth
by placing yours on mine. This
topless bikini and your myopia
keep missing the positive consequence
of togetherness.
I am used to a place
made of fences
and lemon groves and
cowboy boots
made for kicking things
out of the way like these
feelings we share, buried
near the ditch, constantly
unearthed by rain, when
it comes.
photo credit: @jacqueline-barnett 2012 (AWARE)