These Hazy Days

Sorry Sunset

at sunset I swear I know all there is to know but I

do not.

legs, my legs I think, hang over the edge

painted almost- touched almost-

almost the perfect ideal

but sunset does not love the land she loves only the

clouds and she

opens her stained mouth swallows the sleeping birds

I place one foot back on ground

other moves in wind tearing tearing

breath quickens

should I? would she-? no of course not

she touches no land things

remember

lavender slip slips off one shoulder I look down

sunset says as she turns her back that I'm perverted

sunset sunset I didn't mean to-

back to land. only land.

I'm sorry sunset I'm sorry