star

you're not

leaving yet. no,

i'll glue your limbs to the pavement,

lower your waving hand,

tell you

something to make your eyes crinkle

again.

again,

again,

again.

I have been told

To put curl cream in my hair

Upside down, eyes 

Straining against the ceiling light,

Curls straining toward the tile floor,

Bunching.

I will smell

I'm wearing the same dress I wore last year, on an evening that felt like moonlight even though the sky was still a milky purple-blue by the time we left, arms linked, laughter spilling over each other and turning the air fragrant, because back th

Today I thought I looked pretty

It must have been a trick of the light

I can't fall asleep in this city

I wish that you'd come stay the night.

Last week I talked to you for hours

sing to me.

i've been a stranger once more

to your hills and valleys, to the

gaps of sunlight between your grasping evergreens.

i've been a stranger

to the red barn

you've felt

the brambles and sweat, 

the curl of berry-stained lips.

you've seen

the cornflower sky stolen

by a red-orange river,

the evening still thick

with lightning bugs and laughter.