LEAVE IT IN THE SUN

gas stations on greenway

are paired with a conglomeration of gravel and grey

we’re rolling paper on the back patio

and the wind carries it away carefully

the way arizona sunsets in the early evening are

rippled and separated like

the pattern of a concha

where pinks and yellows mix

onto sunburnt concrete, cracked underneath the pressure of your sole

i used to fill holes in the ground with dirt

the same holes the cicadas needed to escape the heat

but i never liked the way they sounded in june

there are geckos living in the slabs of beige concrete that separate our homes

the sunlight pressed up against your cheek can sometimes feel heavy in the afternoon

a puddle of warmth gathers at the corner of your elbow

a dove perches on the fence overlooking ladders that lean on your roof

he sits alone for hours

just as i leave my body in the sun and let it melt away

poetry (back)