september

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remember we wove our hair

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in braids until the ends, tied in knots

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spoke out into dark nights

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delicate syllables, betraying

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some privacy, and we cut them off

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running all summer

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with stiff caps of copper and bronze

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licking the sides of our freckled faces.

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remember how it felt with your hands on the

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edge of the cool bathtub and my hand on the

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ends of your braids, a tongue that might not

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be afraid, enough

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the dark night stepped in the window

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we heard the chattering, closed the scissors faster.

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remember the sound of your dog, then?

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dark, too, but better at making his needs known.

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