Peering from beneath
makeshift covers she slides
her tattered sandals off
the tailgate. You were too
busy finding right moments to notice
how she looked when shadows made her
invisible. Reaching over the bed
of the truck, you brush red locks aside and lean
in, but she only allows you
the space to map the freckles across
her forehead. You ignite
your zippo and grab
the candle that’s always hidden
under the front seat. Hopping
onto the bed, you wait
for a reaction, only
to receive that unwanted
look. She tells you to remember
this night because of the blood
moon. And to imagine the reflection
of that orange globe against
local waves where you first
kiss. Remember
carving our initials into freshly sea-salted grains
and seeing them wash away
together. We are not just
falling over one
another’s lips tonight. I lost myself
to you long before the storm came
through your blood eyes.