i. I scratched at my ankle:
we were on the porch in the daytime
3:00 in the oven of a June afternoon
The sky blazed blue overhead
air thick in my mouth
I watched the sweat
drip
drip
slide
down the v-neck collar of your shirt
green from years of mowing the lawn
your sweat spoke
said: I love you
but I cannot touch you
for it is just too damn hot
I agreed
& watched us fry
my own skin turning red
under the uncurious sun
ii. The sun fell off the other side
of the mountain around 8:30
leaving an echo of dusty light around us
The sweat from your glass of sweet tea
settled in a ring on the wire-woven table
still sluggish and slow in the halo of the dusk
Bug-bitten & love stricken was I!
sucking on the marrow of this moment
this stillness
this holy
like a starved dog
I wanted to swim through the damp chasm
splitting the space between our bodies
land in your lap
but I didn’t
I watched your eyes close:
lids sunpinked even through the half-dark.
