Summer Poem

the sky’s milk white
my hands around my coffee cup
–my little hands and dirty nails,
the days are longer
and I not quite as strong
as when ice glazed my world.
I count the days in pairs of pantyhose
and I still cross the streets with care
you see, for me it’s still May.

but darling,
there is no consolation,
only ashes from my cigarette,
the stars look burned
the amethyst sunset’s nothing for me.
the world a lonely carousel,
again I’m unprepared.
all I want is stronger flesh,
instead I have a series of
serrations against the wall of myself
and what I feel
unraveling