from May 2006
You ask me what I am, and I say real
but you see the hesitation in my eyes
and neither of us know for certain
in this hazy florescent world,
anything any more.
But I smell your shoulder
sweat and salt and cologne
and in your eyes the same caution
blooms into desire, unrealizing the truth
as we have always wished to do
for a while.
So, between hands and tongues and
unicorns, fingers and kisses and mermaids
we become fantasies until the sun
shatters the myth of who we could have been.
We face this day with straight shoulders,
unscented.
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