Icarus advice
By

    The sun beat down my back till
    I tanned like stretched leather strips.
    A swinging, naked belt display in
    A shop window.

    I was worn and punctured too.
    I was cinched, linked, and tied.
    Laid out to dry, soaked in brine.

    So when the wind of summer
    Blew back your
    Hair that kept itching to be cut,
    Hanging down in a rough earth–
    Colored curtain just enough to shade
    Your eyes from mine…

    With it I went too.

    Past the
    Tip of your upturned nose
    And the places we could
    Go in old cars with windows
    Down, over and around streets
    Lined with small houses in
    Basements, sofas, itchy blankets
    Curled up and around one another
    In the glow of a T.V. screen.

    And
    I was gone in
    A rush of
    Dust and gold.
    But
    No one ever
    Told me I’d do that.

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