A warm smile is one beyond compare

Can i count on you to call me home  
black sparrow  
 
you don’t really know someone until you make their toes curl  
 
pulling their head back  
with hair  
cumming in them  
biting their  
tender  
bottom lip  
tasting their saliva  
while they quiver  
around your epidermis  
 
leave the house smelling like  
green winter frost  
from a bottle of dial hand soap  
 
wrecked bicycles outside  
but your second favorite was stolen  
son of a bitch…  
 
like you're a brown cigarette butt  
floating in an ashtrey  
full of spilled whiskey  
 
seeing old faces resurface  
from your past you thought was left behind  
buried  
but behind us all is a slipstream of the lives we’ve touched  
tortured  
tip toed around  
maybe walked with  
once upon a dream  
 
such soft soft lungs you breath with  
it’s a shame they come to claim us like they do  
for i’m sure messengers of  
death  
make out under the bleachers too  
 
daylight peeks over the horizon as i drive in  
just shining on an empty pond  
reminds me of a childhood  
mini R/C  
slot car  
racetrack set  
that ran off orange juice  
instead of electricity  
 
i think of the creek bed in the woods of Norris  
that ran across  
gravel and paved roads  
slippery with green algae  
a small waterfall i could die in its so beautiful  
 
a little city in Marianna, Florida  
where you’re the biggest thing  
to hit town  
since the civil war  
music shops say there’s nothing there for you  
maybe that’s perfect to  
set up a silo  
sell grain  
sink my teeth into the countryside  
beat back the citys  
wearing black sunglasses  
slicked back hair  
glaring right at you  
just like you’re dinner  
and they’re the T.V.  
 
my memories leave me stranded  
among this huge tree house  
a hundred feet in the air  
connected with slides  
steel wire rope bridges  
just off the beaten path  
with cubby-holes to hide in  
scratch your name in the wood  
sloping down to  
an amphitheater  
that i’ll never see a show at  
 
riding shotgun back from my first highland games  
the owners of the Asian restaurant  
stared at dad in his  
Scottish clan kilt  
as we ate lo mein  
 
i remember the southern beach  
he took me to  
i was maybe 13  
full of sand grains  
long dry grass blowing in the wind  
just over the dunes  
peering off into  
where the water and sky pass into forever  
that’s where my heart is