the moon is full and the streets hot to the touch, darkened by day's footsteps.
print a pinwheel on my skin and tell about forgotten ferris wheels,
for i know summer's here and boundless.
stillness, when you cannot see a star, no crickets chirp
and the dandelions close their little eyes till morning.
you write about the sun. and yes there is the moon,
strawberry moon, moon-of-making-fat,
moonpie, creamsicle and raspberry.
hips like sunshine, river deep.
if i were a wave i'd come to you, never risk it on my own,
never strike out like a gambler, but gleam and flash unfailingly,
and somwhere the fearful wishes of my heart.
even in the sun there are secret places.
shaded, full of webs and twigs, where longings sharpen
and soften again. rusted nail and cedar tree, a name carved in the dust,
a traveler's hat, an orchard.
a plum is like a daydark moon, ripe
and full of otherworldly spirits. you can taste the summer moon.
roam yet wildly.
vintage dress: from this etsy shop
white saltwater sandals: thrifted $2
tarot necklace: shrinky dink made by darin
lapiz earrings: gift from mallory
blue beaded necklace: made by addie years ago