Mercury in Van Gogh Skies

 

 

Mercury is a speed demon on an ego trip;
young and stupid with only the eyes of heaven to bring us back

down.

You told me my gaze held the stars, but

I don't remember
pulling the constellations into my irises. You were the one

to hand me the flowers

and announced that you had picked them yourself,

          Instant gratification isn't fast enough. Maybe

we could have slowed it down a bit; let me meet the night

and feel its velvet sweetness
across my breasts like warm bath water,

like the gulf at the first touch of summer. I can smell the salt.
I can smell the sulfur.
With you
I tasted the slow rot in the bottom of an eroded season’s

grave and found it sweeter than the last drops of wine you brought

when you showed up at my door. It was enough
to trade my stars
for sleepless nights under Van Gogh skies.

I would have traded anything.




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Starward's picture

This poem is so evocative.

This poem is so evocative.


Starward

C.Locke's picture

I like hearing that :D

I like hearing that :D


C.Locke