asklepiades (asklepiades) wrote,
asklepiades
asklepiades

late one summer day we met
with windswept winds underneath your dress,
with a half-made-smile you spoke of your hard times
and getting by, and i nodded right along.
down here beneath the dandelions uplift
we drove our hearts till our content,
sipped through straws our warm resolve
and poured the rest on strangers lawns.

and you with parents made of want
since spring had half a mind to jolt.
friends called it weakness when you stayed,
but i kissed your fears each anyway, said

'youre beautiful.'
and there we stayed
with your hair so gently lent
to lie disheveled along my chest.

in your tiredness you wore autumn well
though the days were hot
and our fathers warm
around the edges.
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