You Slid Out One Night in the Cold (No Note)

You leave so curiously;

I panic-pedal my bike

until dawn searching

this drunken town

for your scent,

your sarcastic chuckle

and pathetic beard.

 

My list of reasons for you

leaving if you had left

an itemized list:

the fiery car crash;

my shattered arm;

your jealousy;

and survivor’s guilt;

gone violent, wrong.

 

You’re long gone as am I.

To Texas or Iowa

because you always

liked the squenching

confines of leather.

To think I once believed

in us, how wildly I surrendered

and how, after ten solid years,

the heart yearns to return.

May Intoxication

Wisteria-like, you wind your fingers,

strong as a newborn,

across my chest. I wanted you

from the morning I watched your irises

slide beneath their Atlantic blue

to a gray-dappled horse

in my recurring dream.

Your tongue flicks smartly

as the garter snakes, sunning deftly

along my basement bricks.

So, my lashes drowse heavy

with the cottony lust of a first girl-

archaic; smeared in charcoal;

blazoned brighter beneath cinders

-than the nearest sun.Eastern Garter Snake

Muscadine

Late summer vines

gnarl heavy

above my head;

my fingertips,

stained fuchsia, itch

for musky,

thick-skinned grapes.

I pop bronze-pelted

scuppernongs

between my teeth

as you slide

calloused hands

around my hips

and whisper

in a language

multiplicitous

as their names–

Black Beauty,

     Vitis rotundifolia, Alachua

Sugargate, Muscadinia,

Triumph.

 

Below your botanist slang,

I know the muscadine–

how tough ebony splits,

exposing silky underbelly.

Slick juicy pulp

pirouettes translucent,

wine-wild

like your taste,

deep as porphyry

in my mouth.