Let’s sit in black velvet, Elvis,
under a jawbreaker moon.
Expect a firmament
dripping sugar crystal
clear and blue floss
just at sundown, streaking
stadium-sized meteors
that tat wholes
—out of holes
shaping ephemeral
auroras into
(Western Nights)
Saltwater taffy our jammed Tootsies
Popped into shore-breaking
—with laughter
an unguarded medicine,
rolling & cresting
whatever ails you
if anything does
ease it for you.
Let’s do that…
you & me
sometime.
©Karen Robiscoe
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