strawberry lips

i tell him
that if you could find
an ocean large enough
Saturn would float

he calls me strange,
i prefer memorable

we stand and sway together
smoking strawberry cigars
letting the pale ghost ships
slip out of our mouths
and make their way, evanescent,
on the stammering breeze
dispersing among the leaves

i tell him
pay attention to the
inbetween of my words

he says he can't read my mind,
i think louder.

my dazzled, half-sleepy eyes
look up to the dynamo of stars
and i see Saturn soaking in the
upside down ocean of the universe
an unspoken imaginer's manifesto,
now i am sure that i was blind before we met

i tell him
the sea is not our home

he asks to go swimming.

i guess we both  
want to change stations,
and live out our textbook dreaming
together.

my shoulders sigh and i exhale
turning to him like a trusting animal,
only to curl against the palms of his hands

& with his strawberry lips on my mouth
making smoke-sweet nicotine kisses
i try to keep the words
from flowing out