Description
Undoing the visuals from the eye ball
the eye socket covered in rags
what I couldn't see
the onion peels and wet feet in the bathtub
losing every layer of dry skin
could not begin
to unearth
the shell
the tortoise
turning over
Summer Again
Soaking up the rain and whipping spit of the waves, as he stood next to the ocean of my memory, a fire hydrant in a red windbreaker, glaring in the midst of a water storm, how I wished it was summer again. Matching silver rings and glances over coffee, army jackets and annual cigarettes, looking at the stonework on the buildings forever, necks craning to see the falcons carved like gargoyles, high enough, on their third story ledges, to amaze us but not so close as to pose any real threat. Under the willow tree, I will always be, with his hands on my shoulders.
