olive oil soap
the flecks
like my favorite kind of cheese, aged parmesan
in slices that crumble away
shaved down until nothing is left
make me remember nights on Oland
scrubbing away the Danish air
the green green color of rosemary picked on a hike
resonating within my mind
warping down into a darkness
like running at night.
I sit on the bench and think of beginnings and endings
chchchchchchsssssssssssssschchchchchchchchsssssssssss
too much water for California but the warm air is tell me to
strip all the clothes from my body and roll in the fresh wet grass
as my pointed toes run up the goosebumps on my mapped legs
the water would slide into my laughing mouth
as my hair zig zags across my shoulders
and the sprinklers turn a 80 degree night into a waterfall.
the baubles of light letting me see half of everything.
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