the drumming in my chest beat on at an illicit pace
from folly fled i wait awhile my head among the stars
the urgency of solitude writ on the mountain’s face
and light creates a tiny vault where field mice nest in yarns
unsold at June bouquets overly wilted still new
we ate nuked beignet and danced the crumbling crescent blue
and rested in the doorway while soul flowers reimbue
our champagne skin with rouge and lift our luminescent plumes
our movements less than glamorous still self-assured then came
surly as sick infants aching morning fate at home
some foul perfume clung to our clothing cloying nicotine
i’d sooner dance the nude down main than smell that nectarine
lone peace will truss us in a trice soon life is marmalade
our nature leaves us at excesses’ mercy unafraid
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