What Was, What Is, And What We Wished




High grass in the haze of melody
Summer intrusions and the smoke is lit
Soft kiss of introduction
Nothing too offensive
I noticed your facial hair
More than any frame of sexuality
Can’t ask for more than your breath
Pushing against mine
And the sweet music is played
Pretending it is summer
It almost fools us
But the smell of the ashtray
Filled with water and the cigarette filter rowboats
Brings us back to the damp autumn day that it is
Our scarves keep our necks warm
But I believe it should be each other’s arms
Slung like shawls over shoulder and nape
Like comrades in photographs
Or friends on the beach
Covering the skin that is tender and white
Soon to be burnt and reddened by the wind and sun
Ah the summer it always returns
Here we must sit though
And what of it?
Are we not content to watch cars drive
Their headlights turned on although it is day
Making other’s aware that they exist
Like us with our bright eyes
Shining through the dirty, unwashed, darkness
Brightened by the embedded reflections
Of countless cigarette ends
Are we not content to feel the scarves
Wrapped sharply around our necks?
Bursting out warmth against the ribbon of Autumn’s cool
I kiss you and it is your facial hair I think of
For sexuality is caught in summer’s frame
And in these nights I am happy to be caught in the comfort of company

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