Virgo

these September
secrets
run faster
than we can flee
our memory
of the last
who is the voice of our late-summer, lovers?
who speaks for these mottled-gray souls?
linen skin’s curvaceous splendor
aye, a dove-eyed woman’s temptatious danger
the kind
who’d make you superstitious
when you can’t bear
to lose it
all
again
tho, our familiar patterns
even the children
know
watching
the dance of fools–
this game
only ends one way
if you stay
here
feeding her
smirking desire
later on, my brother
you’ll both be sucking air
through your teeth
gnashed
skin– slick
and glistening
lungs– panting
the shadows
of your mind
drawing closer
leaving only
a keyhole view
another memory
you’ll never
outrun

4 Replies to “Virgo”

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