Michigan Summers

We stared into the shaking sun.

Was it faith, Or rose that laced the air?

Thoughts of Michigan summers,

Grease and lake water,

And the frogs who are skeletons now.

The water that made my nose sting:

I want to say it smelled like pepper,

Or the force of wet impact,

Or the slouch of time as I left from you, under the surface,

Too afraid to open my eyes.

He took me down the Nantahala,

and I was afraid of the current.

The cold water

Could pin me down to the stone bone baseboards until I lost myself.

But if I could be lost in your arms

Would I find something better?

Hold me-

Get to know me-

WRONG WAY.

Please move your hand off my shoulder blade-

But I'm sore.

(How much trauma am I allowed to claim?)

I'm sorry.

(Pussyfoot around that please)

The crick-crackling of the leaves

And the swaying,

Thunder's boring-so-she-said-

And the mist that the car makes as it brushes by

Coats me in the legs

As I shiver through slick summer rain-

(My confidence is at an all time low.)

I taste like the summer storm

The fear of the meat you cook,

Raw served cold.

And sometimes I think I like the taste

Of congealed blood

And allspice seasoning that you tell her to put on the meat.

You pinned me down in the kitchen

And though we laughed It was

Terrible

And I was miserable.

I hated being stuck there with you in that house.

I hated that house.

I hated how you would always complain about the house like you weren't the one to buy it.

But you didn't care about the state of it until you actually had to live there.

The sleepy face I give you,

My eyes have no heat.

(Why are you afraid of me?)

The friendly feminine familiar

Holds and shakes me

And it hurts but she's so sweet

As she presses rocks into my joints

And leaves me to dry under the shaking sun.

I come back to it-

A wild cranberry,

Fermented by your radiation,

Left for the crows and bluejays.

I refuse to walk on the right side of the road,

Even for you.

(Why am I so fucking lonely?)