When I saw you in the stars
my eyes pulled at you like a straw in a juice box.
They sat perfectly still in their bony restraints
not wanting to miss a second.
When your feet cut groves in the earth
I wondered if I was going blind
because only the eyes would linger on such a provocative picture
before they fade out forever.
You wiggled on the end of my hooked gaze;
you were bate for my floundering smile.
Those legs tangled so effortlessly in the rising earth.
I wish I knew the words to that
indie rift clashing of your hips.
Your voice was a tambourine of playful excitement,
and in that moment the question fled from my lips like soft, pink bubbles.