Easy Day, Easy Night
Happiness is easy
when you're not looking backward
or forward through the chaos.
Summer afternoon, juice
sweet on my lips,
hands stained blueberry,
dirty hands,
smell of weed rolled up in a spliff-
puff puff, sniff sniff, breathe.
Rockin’ on a creaking porch swing,
rusty with a shot of beam, old bottle,
young hands.
Muddy feet, clean face.
Bad memories, good memories,
both intersecting.
I imagine halls filled with ghosts,
but I'm okay and so are you.
Dusk is coming fast, time flies.
Blood growing warmer
like a slow-cooked meal
left on the burner, open invitation.
Hands touching,
touching skin, fast succession.
Touch me harder fast,
legs shaking, thighs burning.
Hold me down and let me loose.
I witness your success, smile.
Hold me just a short while more,
then turn and let me dream,
sweet dreams.
There's the hint of music,
am I dreaming still?
Whatever, the sound is good.
Seeping through the window,
porch radio left on beneath
creaky porch swing.
Come close again
and leave it be.
Let's do it again tomorrow,
differently.
Copyright © Erin Beckett | Year Posted 2013
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