you drink me
in the mango light;
a 4:49pm smoothie of shadows —
we are sitting on the edge of summer’s
it smells like sweat (heat)
but there remains a chill before
the sun tries to set;
catching on the branches/leaves/trees.
I offer to dink you
on my bike
but there is only sorrow and
magic, between us
so you refuse
and I kick (fuck it)
at concrete curbs and cut corners
all the way home.
the power goes out, later
so for a moment the night cannot see in
as I clean eternally dirty cups
before offering someone else a drink.