XXVII

she's 27 and I can't help it

when she hugs me hello
and the earth spins off its orbit
in daydream highlights
under the sun we both share
but never indulge

as pistols scream over
lace and vanilla and
junkies nod off to
a Gershwin score

I can't help being
wrapped up in her
close and warm
as the equinox

slender hips pressed
belly flat and breath
against the earth

I think I've fallen off the edge
every time and she just moves
moves the tide

moves the tide.