let us suppose

We climb up the rusting ladder, 

Mexican beer forced into waistbands, 

and lie on the cooling roof

count our personal galaxies 

far high LEDs, billboards, dreams. 

You won’t get aggressive from the booze tonight 

but sweet, softly blurred around the edges. 

And let’s suppose we begin to make promises, 

the far-reaching ones that reflect our age

and all the impossible potential held in our humid thighs

and starry eyes

We compare shadows and the blue glow

of distance. Scattering sweetly scented flowers

around an impossible future. 

I would see these tears as art

and so we would be. 

You lie in that shiny black

wet hot seed. I yearn to plant and feast

the vines that strangle stubborn feet. 

Soft brown lips

sometimes stirring, like dozing lovers

on your dozing lover face. 

High above the street lights. Two impossible galaxies

upon their backs, comparing the tyranny of future. 

Of course, distance doesn’t apply to warming bodega beer. 

Until we drift and dissolve

back to this moment. 

Soft and young, again we will meet,

in tropical filthy rain, we retreat.