Lady walk out on top of midnight, spread herself over the streets, for the late night shifts-cigarette breaks, to spill themselves on. rosehips rosehips. we broke her stem, and she rose up from the sewers like a ghost. Her lips still pale from the water,as we can fit our little bodies into the same intertube and float for days with our heads under the water, the cat bells ring, as he walks through the door, and a hair floats to the ground. the music seeps through the holes in the glass, and a thousand young insects are dancing in the heat of the night. The late night flicker of lights on the street, the moth man fucks moth lady over cincinnati bridges. I relive my childhood [with him], over and over. 1963 shot me in the heart. She gathers her clothes, turns to avoid the embarrased eyes of her children. fixes her hair, picks a strand from her finger, and it stands still mid air. He is stone, rising up and the door rubs against him.
in the mornings she is water, no hesitations, it is so normal an occurance. The suicide queen backing down from her throne, to put her feet in the sand, and watch this water kiss her feet.