unnamed colors

when
i
see
you
pure

gunslinging

behind the bar, or

walking down the street
towards the place

we are meeting

 

and i walk past
that point of reference
towards you
and your jangled
curls, your machine-gunned, raven gazes
shooting off
in every damn direction possible-

just to have
your eyes, stop, hold
and cut
like an acetylene torch.

just to have
a few extra stupid sentences
exchanged

with you,

 

cite any example
of us out in the world, alive
together, every time;

i try and rewire my senses
to see, to believe
the nebulae
of energy around you,
the topography of your words
and the colors of your scent.

i wish you meant it
the way i wish you meant it
when you say how excited
you are

about our future.

there is some charm made
of pure warmth, some color
i can’t pin down, just as you exist

 

in transit, a doppler effect
of pure emotion-

 

swatches of feeling
shooting off your slender heels
like cherry-ended cigarette butts,

there is some charm, a perseverance
of heat

i know i am
slated to bear

in the absence
of your lithe form
across a threshold, and

it is in the cold moments
i wait and search and wait and

name

 

all of the colors i can think of.

 

-for Abbie

J. Endress, USA