sōth

when i am with you 

i can see beautiful

sitting on the futon 

at the lunchbox

looking at each other 

in the tiled mirror wall

we discuss if the mirror 

was there first or the tiles

glass and plastic poking

corners in our eyes

the door unlocked 

for stamos to get the pot

and piyali to put on 

longer pants 

so we can talk fifty feet 

through the woods 

to the golf course 

because it it is man-

made beauty at its finest,

and the sky is orange

light glowing in low clouds

white oak branches black 

and dervish smiles

adorning our faces

felipé falling from that tree 

and breaking his face 

on the ground 

a year ago today

i would stand on 

the women's green 

when I didn't know 

there was a difference

but for twenty-four feet 

between neat pads of grass

earth saturated solidly

still and stolidly

the stoic stare

standing entranced 

at the sigh of springtime 

sating our tuesday tremors.