winter term = over

Vestigial emotions are all wrapped up in letters, old passwords
fountains, photographs stashed and valentine cards and
no offense. We have fire in our mouths for these kinds of things.

But I am clean now -I smell like a patch of gardenias or clovers
that talk to one another, and compare feet. Slender, curved
The shape of our bodies on my bed that became a boat sailing on the grass.
Class is over. My ambitions drown in the water (i mean grass)

I am a swimming anthem of keyboard malismas and hardknocking
wood grain rhythms. Ive never wished for beauty so much in my life
I touched it all over today, in her dark brown waves and freckled hands.
We move with the daylight
daylight
daylight

Into the daylight