of Ed. Hirsch's "Cotton Candy"
My Improv':
We walked over the broken railway track in Atlanta
for what turned out to be the best night we shared
these three months--and I liked the smell of Winter
green on your breath, linked the packed dip to habits
taken up by real men. And I know you are taken
with me, like the slow half moon's heart pulls relentlessly
at a whole ocean, messes with its tide. When my foot
slipped forward on the rail you pulled me into you
and the sweet sound of traffic horns spun behind
us. I know couples looked down on our sutured chests
from their bucket Sky View seats, jealous of the way every
fluorescent light from the ferris wheel was too distracted
by us, electric as burning stars, to help in their romance.
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