intermission

     

we lie
sipping tea grown cold with time
and your need for conversation

wondering at the dark
and the way your hair gleams under streetlights

reminding me of the hard light of autumn afternoons
the tumble of crimson strands heavy over my palms
like a promise

your skin warmer than the air pressing crisply near

sky like spilled fingerpaint
electric blue hiding behind lemon leaves
that flirt aside under the smoky wind

and im writing
              writing
capturing every elusive moment

i’ve seen this dream before
i know how it ends

your hand slides free of mine
and i turn to face the empty street
time paused between one moment
and the next

and i'm still here waiting