Nights in the Wonder Valley
*
Honeysuckle offers its bedroom
for bad choices. Rain swallows ache.
We lean against the wind, not touching.
*
This song is missing a tooth, fugitives
on back roads. Is she shredding the cello?
Music on the radio, radiant as a 40-watt bulb.
*
I stare at your face all evening. Firelight
collects in the crater below your eye
as I trade my wonder for a mouthful of air.
*
If I shiver, then the moon shivers.
If I whisper, then the moon listens.
If I quiver, the moon is no more.
*
Every answer is given back: five hours
of heavy rain, the clock without hands,
and the sound of the river, flooding over.
*
Heat lightning, we cower under
the junipers. You tell me a secret that floats
and stings the mind I left across the field.
*
Like a child forgive-me-not
Use an X to mark the spot
Where I slept tonight I forgot
*
Sweat dissolves in the river
and every flood given is a gift
in this July, where we are howling and alive.
*
After midnight, I’m in danger. Done wrong
doing wrong. Honeysuckle hangs
heady in the air, desire uncontrollable.
*
Scared of the thrill, I open my jacket
to the chill. Shameless laughter
astonishes my lips in the cold water.
*
Brand me with your mouth—your teeth
leave little moons on my neck. Oh shiver.
Oh shadow. Touch me without your hands.
*
Delirious, I tremble. The radio
never stops playing its low whirring.
The clock breaks across the floor.
*
The way you laugh makes me laugh.
Blood rushing down tight squeeze
cool breeze now you've got the chills
*
Kill a silverfish with bare hands. Drink out
of an ice-cold glass. Snap a bed straight in half.
Throw a party. Whip the table into laughter.
*
Hidden in every night: memory of hands
that wait in the gloom, sharpen
knives, create the shape of shadows.
*
No dreams of teeth. No dreams of maps
or homes. No dreams of hands caught
at the throat. No dreams of naked swims.
*
Accidents happen. Your tongue traces the wet acre,
wild bees. Does California exist only in dreams?
Secrets drift through poppy fields.
*
The nightingale won’t stop singing.
The mouth of the river won’t close.
Each evening, the wind overlooks us.
*
This night, like every night before or after,
we each are alone. I unmute myself,
laugh in the dark valley.
