Margaret - Lynniya Charleus

The heat has nothing on me - I don’t believe in sunscreen.

The ants crawling up my thighs tickle. Your hair is so big

in my lap, I cannot tell where you end and where I begin.

There’s concrete under my ass and I’m tracing the slow

path to heaven on your arms so maybe tomorrow you’ll

know how to find your way back. Singing our favorite

song, the tracks shake and rumble and grumble behind

us; our spines just might shatter.   We scream excitedly.

Is                 the               can             empty              yet?

When I get home, I’ll purge this moment and call to say I

saved some for you. It smells like peach - mango -

watermelon.

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