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Brooklyn night.
Brown-eyed susan in sunlight.
Buttercup.
You walk closer to me, through buttercups, snapping one from its stem. Buttercup, can I trust you? Luminous, your army of sweetness and invitation. Your touch between the thin air of your skin and my skin, now giving to me my only desire and understanding of sensation. I drift, buttercup. Buttercup, can I bask in the place you sleep in. In sun’s giving warmth, or, should I run from you, the second I have the chance.
By you.
I rest here peacefully, Among trees and water, and, In love, Shaded from the world, Between earth and you. Floating in reflection, Casted by shadow and warm sun, Dark and light, Southern mood, and, Humid moon. Excerpt from Between the South and the North.