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outside—by Bakersfield
standards, a cool fall day.
Kyle lights his cancer
stick, takes my hand,
and steers me along
the riverbank. Summer-
fried grass chatters
beneath our feet, and
the water mutters along.
Smoke bothering you?
Kyle asks, blowing it
downwind, away from me.
“Not at all.” He finishes
his cigarette, stubs it out,
pulls me down into a soft
tuft, sits close, and leans
his face into my hair. Sighs.
Tobacco breath escapes
his mouth, yet somehow
it doesn’t make me gag,
and when he lays me back
to see the sky, I find myself
very near heaven. Kiss me.
It’s more order than request,
but I don’t care. All I want
to do is lose myself in him.
I’M SO LOST
I barely notice when my shirt
comes off again, or how the cool
breeze plays strange melodies
