glances

Electricity lives
in the beautiful men -
the glances I get
about my day.
Swear to god
if I ran out of this
fossil-fuel youth -
explode - pollute, seep into air,
dilute control,
dreams,
steal stares -
the tricks it can do! -
Oh, I could survive
on the glances
I get.

Power
enough to turn
windmills,
them,
when I've already claimed the wind.

Sky like a peach's bruise -
bitten into -
rot rushing between horizons -

the only friend of mine
who truly seems to know
life
as a pillow for eyes -
minds.

You have them falling,
remembering
deep deep exhaustion.
A weakness, a danger
if you don't hone it -
the rest in my skin,
my eyes - mine to give -
is purest power.

Sometimes I'm damn sick
of being slept on.
Want someone
to fight with me.
But then
I have a fine fight
to come home to,
and this moment,
from under cowboy hat brim -
a new
soon-dozing, sore,
azure ache
locks eyes with me.