beyond the threshold
where the vacuum of conditioned air
sucks mosquito wax from my bitten body
willow leaves caught in my bushel hair
dandelion pecked to the latch of my overalls
i’m in love with my babysitter
I haven’t cleaned my teeth in weeks
with anything but a hard swish of royal crown cola
a reluctant sip of well water
on days over 100
I stand in a line of boys proving our pee
to the counselors
the ghost in the white victorian
murdered by her father
we laugh at her memory on the 4th of july
watching fireworks dance in the reflection
of her attic window was that a face
sam berkman holds my head
beneath the surface of the lake
my swim buddy according to the tag
on my thrashing wrist
releases me like a bloated leech
I practice french kissing
my forearm up down all around
I write tongue letters
on skin I burnt at the airshow
in oshkosh the white heat
of vanilla cones
I make gibberish prayers to the melody
of songleaders their loud steel
strings encircled by willows
blue button downs black trousers
not enough cotton to save us
from the hunger
of insects slowly drifting
on paper wings
awaiting the crush
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