citrus
an orange is sweet is love is sour is a lemon.

summer disk, burning
high in the ocean-sky,
haloes the smoky tendrils from your mouth;
what would you have done
if i took them captive—
tobacco and all?
that time it’d have been for once & for all.

the first time,
your lips were sticky-sweet
with orange juice nectar,
(that glass was the last of the carton,
succulent and pulp-ridden)
musk and sharp green grass teasing beneath.

the last time,
they’d tasted too much
of chocolate and strawberry delight,
and lily-of-the-valley
clung to your sweater;
never knew you
for a floral kinda guy.

lawn chairs stained with rainwater
from the sky’s humid weeping—
puddles
beside the empty pool,
where she had tested the theory
of swimming pools and pregnancies;
if only you’d been
a bit more unwilling.

nerd-boy across the street
dresses in oxfords and starched collars
and has a curfew of eight pm,
but at least he knows
how to love & kiss his girl
goodbye.