Sing Blue Moon

Playing bluemoon hooky
Cuz long goodbyes
Are never easy.
Time is blowing August
Out the door,
But not without
This parting.

And —
Just like in long ago,
Looking the other way
Out the window to
Hide wet eyes,
In sunrise backseat
At his Birmingham gas station —
Sorry to leave behind
Kudzu-tempest red-dirt church paths
And long drawl nights
In a swing
On the screenporch.

That’s before
You figure how to sabotage
An ending.
But August’s
Not going to let me off
That easy.

Leans into a long
Last day,
With sweet nothings
Whispered in wind.
He kisses sensation
Back into my toes
And this is no
Gently fading coda,

But a crescendo
Waxing hard
To flesh-on-flesh
Rhythm and
I’m licking salt
From his lip
And holding my breath,
As if that might
Keep the clock from
Turning over minutes.

But time is a trickster
And quick to cut,
And you can’t fool him
Into stopping
More than just a second.

So just once more
In the late summer prairie
Going gold.
He’s curling my hair
Around wet fingers
And sipping sweat
From the small of my back
While I pick seeds
One at a time.

And even though
It’s harder for it,
I cannot break his gaze
Until he sits up,
Leans in to breathe
Along my jaw
And whispers,

Oh love,
I need to wander,
And you need a woman.

Comes a tapping
At the door,
Owl crooning low,

I think you’ve
Met September?

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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