laughter drains down the wall
and puddles on the floor like
tired engine oil. no, like
rain that’s labored over the coast range,
only to be blasted up in the air by the cascades,
themselves scraped off a plate like the dinner we couldn’t finish
because we felt the plates slip sullenly beneath our feet,
as the moon sluggishly drifts further out in the night.
between your breasts
rain and honey
long for the dark night
when i reach
for your breasts in the moonlight.