sweet, darling sara, standing on the landing with hair laced into her fingers,
the war drawn into all the creases in her skin. she says of course we are not our soft earthly vessels, we are smaller, firmer, wetter
i ate a peach, she dared, we disturbed the universe together oh god the universe was in her motions if i could draw lines to capture her big blue hips i would. do i dare disturb again
sara in a dress, my own branch-tipped apparition, what a doll, what a doll.
knees like traintracks, whatever the hell that means, and we kissed on the
couch before our bodies clashed together like thunderstorms
i gave my best wishes to the mean reds saturday in june with the air fat and yellow