Light in August
Tired hands reaching out, last gleaming glimpses
of light fading from rocks I’m pinned to
in a mid-August sky—sun goes diving behind
treeline darkening on banks of two rivers
meeting melting exploding in all this green,
it’s leaving like the love I lost—the girl
with the creek dancing behind her house
Light in August is like her wild brown eyes
locking with mine—I could stare forever,
the agonizing ephemerality of it all
Light in August shines like her golden lips
when we used to kiss under holy glow
of a burgeoning cosmos, beneath silk star
soul of nights I wish I still had in my pocket
Light in August is the aching in my bones
because I know all too well that it won’t last,
September’ll come and remind me that summer
isn’t eternal anymore—but she is in my mind
Light in August is as soft as her arms wrapped
around me in drunken midnight waters, as soft
as her pale skin rubbing against mine on rocks
wet with graffiti overlooking the end of the world,
as soft as her wild thighs cradling my neck
in cozy warmth of blankets in childhood bed,
and it doesn’t even feel real anymore
Light in August washes over me like her hands
on my bare torso, her touch was endless then,
ㅤㅤㅤit’s impossible now.
Light in August gave her freckles all over
her cheeks, I want to brush up against them
and feel the warmth of sun in her skin
Light in August lit up her hair, went swimming
in warm winds like green leaves on branches
of old oak trees falling in my backyard
Light in August is still lighting her up
and I don’t know it, I can only dream it
when navy sky turns black and the madness
ensues—but there’s impossible moonlight
hidden behind thin tapered veil of clouds
and that old warm wind is washing over me,
running its fingers thru my salty hair like how
she used to do—oh how it reminds me of you,
all of August coming down on my shoulders
And I’m not lonely, there’s crickets humming
in thickets—there’s owls behind barn doors
of meadows praying with me to the dusty
moon—there’s deer grazing the treeline, it’s
turning blacker every time I look at it—there’s
the coolness of the water I dive in, the river
rolls silent—there’s empty arms of a purple
tangerine sugar sky for me to float in
Light in August’ll leave me too and there’s
no other way around it, my love
