there was that decade of citrus lipstick
painted in shades of a ruddy cliff side
which had collapsed in the shape of a woman

that whole morning was a happy mistake
the light mandolin twang of alley bands
one thing freely plucked out of another’s hands

maybe I promised never to transpose
those echoes from the storm the night before
salt perfume, a frayed red cap, burnt pancetta

as our young captain gabbed each new line out
we got caught up, we gazed at the fresh snow
at the top of the island’s old volcano

it would all melt by midday, when we swam
trying to concentrate on those other
fish in the sea, colors of forgetfulness

I remember my heart of burning oil
on a hot engine, sunscreen in your beard
Divanti, diet coke, a yellow sundress

eyes, the green of unshelled pistachios
no, I couldn’t tell you when it surfaced
nothing for a while- then finally, a whale

I know the poetry had brighter aspects
but I was already blind in the sunshine
we only spoke briefly of Sedona