Ships

Charmed by the slow dance
On the ship
Headed to Key West.
We're alive,
Under the faerie lights
Color-coding my inspirations
So that I may sing to you
In indigo-filtered proposals
Of burgeoning love.
I can hear the dangling of
Nirvana suspended
In the starry sky as we drift
Along the arms of America,
Musical tourists,
Tripping on the mechanics
Of poetry...
I whisper my lyrics, again,
Into the deep excavations
Of summer
& am asphyxiated by
The intensity of your tongue
As it echoes back to find me:
Your burnished spiral
Piercing the limp corners
Of my feverish heart.