Mosquitoes
It’s those times, between the times
We are together,
That I think of you the most.
Walks that went on for
Miles and ended sitting on
Swing sets in playgrounds.
Those times we held hands
And made plans
To smoke after work.
The summer came early that year.
Hot summer days followed by
Shirts sweat stuck on backs
During summer nights.
You left when the weather
Began to cool. And I miss
When we sipped beers
Under the buzzing of neon like
The everywhere mosquitoes.
Peel
Fingertips pierce porous skin
That yields to soft
Pressure where the hollow
Center begins.
Peeling off layer, and layers
Of orange clothing to
Reach the clinging skin
That tries to hide the flesh beneath.
Hard teeth are not needed
To send departing dribbles
Out over lips soft and warm
Downward over a chin
Splashing onto fingertips
Already sticky,
Then a tongue, strong, licks
The last vestiges of an
Edible encounter
And leaves a spent
Breathless
Tangerine peel.
