The light is set to early Summer,
performing her games of hide go seek.
I think of you often caught between the gloss
and brittle bones, of lovers past.
Tequila are the sunrises; rattling
chinks of treacherous ice.
Dead bodied whiskey slammers,
red cherried parasols for the ladies, ring pulls,
for the uninspired man.
Hedonistic days drift upstream
sucking on their ambition
far into the night.
Contaminated air –
laden heavy to breathe.
As we like lizards on heat
slide elongated from our rock.
I have captured the silence
of your body’s landscape.
Spaces carved deep; forbidden,
untouchable, far out of reach.
I would be ruined to tell you I miss you:
Just believe, you are a hard habit to break…
Poppy October 4th 2013