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Description
I like the taste of chlorinated water
on my new blue jeans,
distressing it thread by thread till
it's soft and nappy like your laugh
in the morning.

Sometimes I stroke the mango ocean
just to hear the water's salt,
hissing by in a puckering,
prickling wave of seas
that have seen too many
artificial tears,

and have grazed the sea bottom with
a sigh that sees my heart's murmur,
pattering along the sidewalk
sanded clean of silky summers;
the ones the sun makes fresh
from the dreams of a preteen waiting,
hoping for a love that will initiate her heart
into a suicidal pattern that
goes on like pi.

I want to see that twinge of pain
in your eyes when the water pours from
them like the drinking fountains I
used to break,
with wads of chewing gum
and sticks, so they'd
spout on forever,
sparkling like neon rays of my
dying smile;
rough but not cheap,
yellow but not gold.

Description
I like the taste of chlorinated water
on my new blue jeans,
distressing it thread by thread till
it's soft and nappy like your laugh
in the morning.

Sometimes I stroke the mango ocean
just to hear the water's salt,
hissing by in a puckering,
prickling wave of seas
that have seen too many
artificial tears,

and have grazed the sea bottom with
a sigh that sees my heart's murmur,
pattering along the sidewalk
sanded clean of silky summers;
the ones the sun makes fresh
from the dreams of a preteen waiting,
hoping for a love that will initiate her heart
into a suicidal pattern that
goes on like pi.

I want to see that twinge of pain
in your eyes when the water pours from
them like the drinking fountains I
used to break,
with wads of chewing gum
and sticks, so they'd
spout on forever,
sparkling like neon rays of my
dying smile;
rough but not cheap,
yellow but not gold.