her legs
smell like stale nylon
& thrush
i follow her skirt
through the city
because it makes sense
to me at the time.
you sit outside my window
smoking cigarettes
& swing swing
swinging
your feet:
they make the same sound
as a metaphor
each time they pass.
now you are climbing old
trees in the night
the bark moves like lips
underneath your fingers
kissing each branch
as you reach up
further & further
against the dark.
smell like stale nylon
& thrush
i follow her skirt
through the city
because it makes sense
to me at the time.
you sit outside my window
smoking cigarettes
& swing swing
swinging
your feet:
they make the same sound
as a metaphor
each time they pass.
now you are climbing old
trees in the night
the bark moves like lips
underneath your fingers
kissing each branch
as you reach up
further & further
against the dark.
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