Sunday on the 74

All things giving way
A dream of loss
and desire
longing for existence
and witness to the hurricane
in your ribs
Walk away
(no don't)
Come back
and keep with me
the thick honey fire
on our tongues

I want to map
yesterday
and hold it still
I'm living on hwy 74
where the road curves
into mesquite
and you are perfect
in the sun
Beyond the breakwater
the grays and whites
of beach stones
touch your salty skin
Scaling rocks
to escape the tide
where i shouldn't have
kissed you
your arms around me
your lips on my shoulder.

74 Revisited

Right now
there is a road
east of here and north
i keep telling you this
because i can't stay off of it
the edges of the asphalt
are crumbling into
hot dust and broken glass is
gleaming gold and green
even tonight.

Echoes of car doors shutting cautiously
are trapped
on the winding hill
not understanding why
they are being cautious.
I am still watching
trying to frame
the perfect shot
but i need not worry
because i see only beauty.

In small segments of time
we will find breathing difficult
and turn away
but dare again to glance
and become entranced.
This is only you
and me and the elements
of a mountain
in summer
where I will not
go again
unless it is with you.