getting good and lost

with you ready, now,
for the sweat of my devotion -
 
like wearin a tank top
knowin summer's gonna breathe right down your neck
with the frail Southern ember
of September, her
dying breath -
 
with you ready
for my love
it's like we're falling all over again
 
caught in this night
 
the sky a soft sketchbook indigo
brighter than the black of the treeline
and all the world  
down the hill  
cicadas and bullfrogs and crickets and mosquitos
screaming
seeming
like the prettiest silence  
to me
 
and we's sittin on the train tracks
admiring the new moon
I see you smile
like you're really truly happy
though I know you're high
somewhere with that dim splash of stars
you and your grin,
your relief
are still down here with me
by the wooden slats
the tracks
 
I kiss you on the shoulder, you
smiling
snatch it up in your lips
suck me in

all over again

you smudged my glasses with the warm on your cheek
a piece of fog to take
home with me
 
That was last night,
this morning,  
whatever; I
left it there  
and thought about that kiss all day.