painted sky
they’re on the lawn
he’s on his back
sweater under his head
for a pillow
she’s propped up
on her elbows
looking down at him
above her is
an Alabama sky so blue
it looks fake
it’s warm, there’s a breeze
bees are filling the bushes
he wants to sing her
every song he knows
and all the songs he doesn’t, too
he wants to reach up
put one hand on her cheek
sit up just enough to kiss her
a long kiss that takes its time
a kiss that is itself a poem
30 March 2013
Auburn, AL
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