Starting in the middle of a lingering late night crowd out loud,
there she was wearing a fire engine red dress,
that clung to her like air made men stare,
made them trip over their feet & the sidewalks.
Fire engine red loud like a clanging bell,
made everything swell crossing the boardwalk
out at Salt Creek Beach, minding the waves,
she moves with an effortless, all-body sway
that makes the waves pissed off
all they could do is foam then break.
Lipstick matching fire engine red dress,
want to wrap my lips around that first kiss,
want to miss her when she leaves her keys on the endtable,
watching her put on her earrings while nailing a torch song.
Cleaving through the crowd like a knife
cutting up, cut red blood out, shake it loose,
making the people separate like the fire engine Red Sea
& soak salt up with the density of skin-to-bone.
Her hair streaked with fire engine red
screaming caverns down her neck
falling over the sweet curve of her back open
& showing the lucky sweat scorch her skin.
She walks past me in this fever dream &
I saw a look my way, no look my way, wish a look my way,
to reach out in the wave of the late evening heat,
beg for water to cling the fire engine red dress
to every curve I could draw out from her body.
Walks down into the sand & so I follow
drifting on through the red planet orbit & its spinning gravity,
she sees me watching her & I can’t care
as she digs her fire engine red heels defiantly into sand.
She abandons those shoes, unneeded slips them off,
ties them in two with the straps around her hands,
tosses them by stones the color of red rock mountains,
making one line footprints in the sand.
She stops just short of the water
earnestly reaching out its wet fingers for her to come on in,
slips off her fire engine red thong, slingshots it backwards
as she runs into the water & does the back stroke counter to the waves.
Of course, they would welcome her. I welcome her.
I want to float on top of her.
I want to stick my finger in her mouth, trace her lips, slip my hand underneath the water line &
pull her fire engine red dress up then tear it. Use it. Wear it.
Like a tourniquet stopping the flow of my raging blood.
Give up this swimming.
Kiss the lipstick off her & trace the red streaks down her hair like red asphalt
as we close our eyes, hold our breath & fall on down to the deep, deep depth.
But, I just leave my eyes open & watch her,
appearing & disappearing in the water then waver like the heat waves.
With absolutely nothing, she is owning the midnight.
Another girl of summer, THE TIME IS NOW FOR BURNING THIS ALL AWAY.
All the wicked reverberations of a winter solstice, the bringing together of
her fire engine red, top-to-bottom, inside-out, over under topples all of this down
even on the hottest day anyone can remember
or in the coolest rush of an August night trembling for the drift.
© Adam Bresson
Email This Post
Print This Post
(2 votes, average: 2.50 out of 5)
Loading ...