Youth

Heated menthol burns back into

her throat—a hazy column rises thin

between her fingertips.

She lets the wind ash the cigarette

out the window where the stars swirl

on the rain-shined roads.

Lips, heart-shaped, part as his one

daring hand moves between the layers

of her dress,

looking to find where she hides

all her desired secrets.

It is hot like summer out.

But in his backseat there’s a cool quiet

as a dusky radio voice lulls their bodies

and intent together into a single chord.

His eyes are blue and grey—

ice melting in the ocean,

and they see hers,

wide and hazel, like seasons changing green to gold.

Before the song is finished, they both taste of smoke.

And the night becomes beautiful

before it is only dark.