moonlight drips from the hands
of aphrodite's whims
stars fuss and fret through the
midsummer nights, snickering
at the mortals who play the games
of ancient below
angels watch as girls pretend they
are at the height of their eternity
and develop italian dreams unworthy
to touch the lips of men
the sea calls out to its lover-land,
gilded shores that yearn and thrash
beneath the pitter patter of teenage
heartbeats
and if this is it
if this is our sole curtain call
we teeter on the precipice
of bloom and decay
you held my stare for a fleeting second
and in that moment,
i saw coal burn
into diamonds in your turn
as children flit beneath our feet
below the canopy of the citrus trees
holding sticky hands and tumbling
into the wet grass of franciade mornings
the immortal youth is free at long last
for in that moment, i saw worlds.
