Feel the hum of cicada on thick, sweet, air
Heavy and low like the first sip
Or last goodbye,
Air that wraps a young woman
Clinging to the patina of yesterday,
Clinging to love never known but felt
In the shape of things,
And in the light escaping
Though fingers curving to frame the brow
So the eyes might catch it as it dips beneath
A thin, grey line.
More than this, I want to ask you
How you See.
I push food around
And stare into an ocean and your eyes
Until something catches,
"Look out there."
Through the window:
A stray dog sprinting across shadows
Where neon cannot reach -
She is the color