alternative

you used to chew on mahogany,
strengthen your words
you said,
once standing like a speech
on a tongue.
at the bus stop as night fell
and you caught it
fingers outstretched like a spiders web,
there was something on the moon
you said.
something you deserved,
a glance?
a bite?
a man, or me.

no one can touch daytime.
not the way you did
with your looks,
freckles
and eyes so blue I almost gouged them out
and threw them into the sea.
your locomotive syllables
clashed with dew and photons
nets of things that let you smell,
here we were. against the sun,
against the every star
you spoke.
we were not meant to be
you said
but that is why we belonged.