Why I’ll never fall in love

Hips pressed against my hips

glued and interlocked

with too-hot sun beating down

sucking just damp skin 

to the metal of your truck.

Metal creaks beneath the weight

of clumsy limbs and fumbled touch.

We’re two dumb kids,

too young to be in love. 

Forget you’re twenty-seven,

surely old enough to touch,

for you forget to tread in open water

and falter when it comes to love. 

Tell me that I’m pretty, lie and say you care

and hold me faintly in the dusk. 

Kiss me like you love me – mouth closed-

a tender touch. 

Place your hat upon my brow

and laugh when the cowboy rim dips too low,

say how glad you are that we met,

till I can’t help but wag my toes. 

Watch the dusty light burn low,

our noses dry with desert air. See the fireflies

emerge in perfect, wholesome pairs.

The field is empty, our skin is flesh,

naked from our scattered clothes.

Embrace me in the star lit dusk,

and watch me fall a little bit in love,

though by tomorrow

I’ll wake once more alone.