Who left out the dropsy?
The long-sleeved
cream satin and lace.
Their ends, cow-tongued,
saying this thing,
that thing.

All whispers in the solstice.
The sun loosened her straps
removed her dress,
and lay down
(it will be until midnight.)

Until that dark sky within us
notices the dark sky.
Until we feel the heaviness of roads,
the ones we lie upon
(so hot out here)

and the ones we don’t.
Until that woman you saw,
who could have been you
looks back, and signals,
‘that’s it, it’s finally over.’
Until then.