Tentative Title: Evening Waves
The sky tonight reminds me of yogurt
The sugared kind that I used to pack away
Before I turned double digits
The kind I used to peel open
Bracing myself for the splatter
The sky kind of feels like that too today
Like I’ve been waiting for it to come crashing down
I tell you about the yogurt bit
And you tell me that the sky is beautiful
Like me
Like the flowers
Like everything else that is soft
And pinkish
And generally willing to conceal themselves
In an effort to bring someone else pleasure
I ask where the moon will rise today
To change the topic
You tell me about all of the constellations
We’ll never see
Because we are fascinated with light
I say something about the irony of that
You chuckle something quiet.
You tell me the moon will rise in pisces
Like you do every day.
I tell you that must mean good luck is ahead
You shake your head
You think the sky crashes down in tiny pieces
Only on you,
Everyday
I wonder if this is an existential vaccine
That I could benefit from.
Just a little more daily misery
For a little less sorrow
I try to find the answers in the lines
By your eyes
And around your mouth
I dig in the pock marks of your skin
Searching
The placidity of your expression
In the wake of me
And mine
