Tequila Floats

I take a long steady inhale, reaching

Deep enough, releasing my soul.

I exhale. And I step out of my flesh

Walking cold across the Tennessee green,

Fertilized by the dead, and somber—

Touched by the dew of afterbirth.

I reach for the wildflowers, trying & fragile

Distant yellow faces. Then the wind speaks

Your name, I can hear your Appalachia

Psalm of a Pentecostal cry hissing

Beneath a snakeskin lying fetal. And

You beg me to remember.  But I have

Become callous against time and my lovers

Bespoke to their tongue-tied intentions falling clumsy from the side of my mouth.

I am numb.  And this food is bland. The sky

Paint is white and pale. My pulse is slow

Exorcising melancholy in slow motion.

Leaving me blind, exhausted, and roaming.