Madison

15

Mosquito Kisses

ii. Waiting replaced with occupation,
I count in twos
july,august;
me, you;
before we catch up to ourselves,
replaced anticipation.

iv. My skyscrapers are tower fans that devilishly tickle my feet.
The sidewalk is too scared to.
Whining in the tune of
Mister Hardy serving soft serve
And Mister Softee revving his cycle
With the sweetest desert haze
Of thumbtack-sprinkled corkboard,
I wish that your bronzed Gold Bond knees
Would send seismic waves
through mine.

vi. I am the cockroach of the season
To follow you with your moon leash
made of sand.
Mosquito bites line my ankle cuffs, I trip over the chain.
We will disintegrate in the sun,
is what I think you told me.

viii. I place my journal on top of your Holy Bible
right in your reach,
but you hover over the chocolate chips
in your vanilla ice.
Only I see that it crumbles.

ix. I stopped the twos
when my bike pedaled against the dense air.
My gears chuckled
at my scabbed ankles,
are those mosquito tickles?
They reminded them of some other night off the town,
some skyscraper that made them laugh
what seems like forever ago.
I knew that it was good to feel excitement
through a numbing seat.

x. I kissed the radiators goodnight
with help from the sun
you named the devil.

xi. I sucked up the chilled coffee grinds
and cut my hair
to show the bottom half of my new lobes.
Did you know that there is another world
down the block?

xii. I ordered spumoni
and spent your extra 25 cents
because I know you hate it.
But I don’t.
It was creamy and smooth and sweet,
It did not crumble.
I let it drip on my olive skin to make it even darker
because I know you don’t like my tan.
But I do.

xiii. I was a mermaid with legs today.
I danced in my pool
To a song I found under a rock.
You can come too,
if you can reconcile with the sky.

xiv. I count in twos
july,august;
me, me;
gifted with friendship bracelets
made of mosquito kisses.