4/17/14

- for Tara



At night we were a flock heading east away from everything

(This isn’t a simile, no Like or As, This is fact)

We were a flock in fighter formation
V-shaped wingmen
An arrow through the city

We settled for smokes on the Broward County beaches
I caressed your thigh before the rise of the moon
I can still smell your neck
Still feel the blond curls of your hair on my face
And the reach of your hand

We isolated ourselves in sea turtle bunkers
No flight plan submitted
No intended returns

The rest of the scene was a glow from the moon was a sheen on your breast was a soft place for tides

The rest of my life’s been a memory at best been that moment your lips couldn’t incarcerate that sigh.


unknown original source

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