Poem 5
Poetry
Thought about a way
to make it all good
again — thought about
the sundown hitting
the boulevard just right,
how that bleed in her eyes
turned into a forest fire,
drenched the iris in
caramel, made my mouth
melt into velvet, dark honey,
bitterness — thought about
paper apologies, that folded-up
boat on the pond surface,
my empty hand a smoking gun,
the cottonwood branches swallowing
every single star the light stole —
thought about hot limbs &
riversides with families of ducks,
how the moment seemed
impossible, how I wished
for nothing but a warmly lit room,
where everyone was happy
& I finally got what I wanted —
thought about soft skin
& sweet peaches, that summer
Martin’s tree ripened, held
through the doorway
by the bucketful,
when the juice slipped
all the way down my chest I thought
of her —