Screeching Seagulls
The moon reflects in an oily city puddle.
Cigarette butts float on their back,
hold hands,
and look up at the stars.
I saw your eyes shining.
When a seagull screeched over the bay,
carrying a doomed crab,
like you carried away a piece of me.
A piece indistinguishable from innocence,
remarkably reminiscent of road trips and dark water skinny dipping.
Clothes lying on dry land like our worries,
as we waded in the willingness of wet ears.
When wind blew on bare flesh,
brittle bones froze.
Brittler than peanut candy,
and drenching in viscous reality
like a bull*****baklava,
baked over the flames of rome burning.
I can stare you in the eyes.
Strip naked with the dissolving cigarette skeletons,
plunge into this shallow lake of spit, pollution, and bitter rain.
Become a ripple through this opalescent cesspool,
disrupt the yellow reflection of the full moon.
For I am more of a man than you knew,
and i can dry off in the air of a cold night.
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