detritus

here we are
lying in the debris of kisses

and to think, we met
like wet dogs
howling at the rain
to let up

with thawed paws
we found handfuls of fingers
and dug
into licked wounds

and pulling
we found colors that had sunk
beneath the weight of grey-haired days

those fingers, drunk
with colors dripping
painted over the pale of the moon

breaking its frozen horizon
with a blushing-yellow yawn
and the stars bled out
and drowned
in the indigo iris
of the sun



wb